Say Goodbye
by Chloe Masen
Summary: Bella Swan loved, but that love was thrown away. She hoped, but it died inside of her. She cried, but the tears dried up, and in their place, darkness fell. She wasn't afraid of it, she embraced it, clung to it. It made her feel alive. Then Edward Cullen showed up. And changed everything.
1. Chapter 1: Meeting Bella

**Disclaimer : SM owns Twilight. This mind-fuck? Mine.**

**A/N : If you're looking for cupcakes and rainbows... THIS AIN'T IT.**

**Chapter One: Meeting Bella**

He left.

Walked out.

Without a word.

While I was sleeping.

The coward.

While I was fucking sleeping!

He.

Just.

Left.

_Whoosh..._

Gone.

No why.

No goodbye.

No explanation of any kind.

No balls.

The fucking pussy.

He couldn't even face me.

**…**

I wish I'd have woken up.

Not to stop him...

Well... not from _leaving_.

If he really wanted to go...

But something...

Yes...

_Something_.

I wish I'd have fucking woken up.

To catch him.

To see him sneaking away in the dark.

Just hours after he fucked me.

Hours after he screamed my name.

Hours after he said he loved me.

Hours after he _lied_.

**…**

It's been 365 days.

Since I woke up and found him gone.

365 days...

That I've woken up and cried because he still hadn't come back.

365 fucking days wondering _why_?

365 days that ended with no answers.

364 nights that I crawled into bed with hope...

Hope that he would be there when I woke up. This time.

Hope that was crushed again and again with every breaking dawn.

Hope that now is with me no more.

_Whoosh..._

Gone.

**…**

I turn off the light and crawl into bed on this, the 365th night, with no hope to cling to.

It left me in the light of day.

It left me when I could _see_.

Now it's dark and I'm alone once again.

No...

Not quite alone.

There's something else...

Something there...

Yes...

_Something._

Dark.

Twisted.

_Alive_.

I feel it.

I hear it.

It calls to me.

It screams my name.

And I listen.

Because I know _it_ doesn't lie.

And I know it will still be here when I wake up.

I know I can trust it.

**…**

I embrace the darkness and close my eyes with a smile on my face.

I'm _smiling_.

I haven't done that in 365 days.

Since the night he left without saying goodbye.

**xx**

**I'm smiling, too. But then... I don't have a dick.**

**So... thoughts? You know what I want.**

**** A little note to any new readers who may have come along... I forgot that I had a mess here that wasn't tidied up. The chapter titles at the top of each will very quickly not make sense. Ignore them. The ones–and numbers–in the dropdown are correct. They were easy to fix.**


	2. Chapter 2: Cleaning House

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. I own New Bella.**

**A/N: What are those 12 steps? Nevermind... I don't think it matters when the steps lead to Hell.**

**Chapter Two: Cleaning House**

Day 366. Or 1 - for the new and improved Bella Swan. A rebirth of sorts. Which is fitting, I suppose, since it's also my birthday. Yeah, the fuck left me right before my birthday.

Needless to say, it was my party and I cried cuz I wanted to, or perhaps because I still hadn't stopped since I woke up and found him gone the morning before.

I reach up now and touch my cheeks, checking for the tears that have accompanied my mornings for the last year. _Dry_. Day 1 is starting off well. It's not that I expected to find any - I feel no sadness - but I guess that I'm just so used to them being there that I needed to know for sure that they had truly left me.

I sit up and stretch, and take a long look around my bedroom. I'm nauseated by what I see. Purple. Everywhere. My favorite color. Except it's not anymore. Yesterday - favorite. Today - making me fucking sick.

The abandoner liked the purple. He didn't complain about it, or ask me to change it. He actually _liked_ it. That should have been a sign. What kind of self-respecting man likes purple and flowers and shit? None. That's what kind. Unless, of course, you're also the kind that likes dick. But he wasn't that, either. He didn't like dick, and he didn't _have_ balls. So I guess that makes him a pussy loving, purple loving, flower loving _pussy_.

So. Much. Better. Off. Without him! The bitch. And to think I wasted all of those tears...

But I shall not dwell.

This is a new day. A new year. A new me.

The old Bella would have dwelled. New Bella? Moving on. Learning.

Lessons I've learned so far since I woke up on this, Day 1? I hate purple. And pussies.

Well... except my own. Pussy, that is, not purple... it's more of a _pink_. And I have quite a fondness for _that_ bitch. We've become rather close in the last year. Maybe I'll even buy her a present for our birthday. Something special... something pretty that vibrates and sparkles, perhaps. Like diamonds, only better. For our special day. She deserves it. Or I do. In any case, _we _will thoroughly enjoy it.

I make a mental note to stock up on batteries again, and climb from my bed, dragging my newly-offensive purple flowered comforter behind me. I leave it in a heap on the living room floor and trudge to the kitchen to start some coffee, grabbing my pack of cigarettes from the so-named table on my way. I toss them onto the counter, and once the coffee's brewing, I move to the bathroom for my morning rituals.

I smile at my reflection as I pin my hair back to wash my face. No red, puffy eyes or nose. No swollen mouth. No longing. No pain. No evidence of anything more than a peaceful night's sleep. When was the last time I had one of those?

I know the answer to that, of course, and who shared it with me, but _its_ stupid yellow toothbrush seems to be making a sudden effort to get noticed. To remind me that he isn't here anymore. The stupid yellow toothbrush that's still in its place next to mine. Because I couldn't bear to throw it away... just in case.

But it doesn't belong there now. Frankly, I'm not sure it ever did.

New Bella doesn't think so.

And she hates yellow. I. Hate. Yellow.

Did I stress that clearly enough?

I _really_ hate yellow. I always have.

I grab it and toss it into the trashcan with disgust. A small thing... not a grand gesture, I suppose, but it feels good.

This is my new focus. Do what feels good. Do what feels good to _me_. I know in this room alone there is plenty more pleasure to be had.

I fill the trashcan with thump after thump of the abandoner's belongings: Shaving cream. Razor. Hair gel. Hair _brush_. Deodorant. Cologne. Face wash. _Moisturizer_.

Fucking pussy.

He spent more time in front of the mirror than I did.

Stupid primping fuck.

On a mission to remove all traces of him, I rip open the shower curtain and grab his shampoo and shower gel. Shampoos, with an 's'. _Three_ different shampoos. Who the fuck needs three shampoos?

I toss them into the trash with the rest of his shit with a loud thud. I think that's everything.

But then I realize the only toothpaste I have is _his_ favorite. His favorite that I always hated. But that I bought to make him happy. The _only_ toothpaste that I bought. Even after he left.

How pathetic was I that I didn't even buy something different for myself? That I stopped buying what _I_ liked?

I have a favorite too, damn it. And it's not this stupid gel shit that makes me gag.

I. Like. Paste! It's even in the fucking name... toothPASTE. Some things should not be fucked with!

I squirt some on my brush for the _last_ time and toss the tube in the trashcan where it belongs. No more gel in my house! I'm taking this place back! And the sooner the better.

I finish up quickly and head back to the kitchen. The coffee smells like heaven and it's calling to me. So are the cigarettes sitting on the counter. I pull one from the pack and light it, relishing in that first drag of the day. Half satiated, I go to the refrigerator to grab my peppermint mocha creamer - but the half gallon of Vitamin D milk sitting beside it leers at me, threatening to ruin my morning buzz. Disgusting sludge. Yeah, guess who that's for?

I never stopped buying that, either. Week after week after week I bought it. And week after week after week I poured it out and bought another. Just in case. What a fucking idiot I was. I just bought this bottle two days ago. When I still had hope.

Well, that hope went down the drain, and that's just where this is going. I grab it and my cream and walk to the sink. I fix my cup of coffee and turn on the faucet, ridding my mouth of the taste of the disgusting gel while I watch the milk get washed away.

The sound of my cell ringing in the other room pulls me from my momentary trance and I turn off the faucet, stub out the now-dead cigarette in my hand, and go to answer it. I know who it is without looking at the screen. "Good morning, Alice."

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"Thank you. And _please_ don't sing. I'm begging you."

"I'm not making any promises, because you know I probably will. Now tell me, was I the first birthday wish?"

I know she desperately wants to the answer to be yes. "Of course you were. And you'll probably be the _only_ this year, so you get that honorary statistic as well."

The line is quiet for a moment, and then she speaks softly, "That's not true. I'm not the only friend you have."

"It's okay, Alice. I get it."

"Bella... it's just really hard for some people to know how to deal with that kind of sadness. They-"

"I'm fine, really. Or, I will be, when I get back to my coffee."

"Got enough for two?" I can hear the sadness in her simple question.

"Yes, you are welcome to join me if you really want to, but if you're just worried that I was sitting here crying into it, then don't be. I'm not doing that anymore."

"You're not?" She makes no effort to conceal her shock.

"No. I'm _not_," I announce definitively, as I walk back to the kitchen.

"What _are_ you doing?" I've piqued her interest now.

"Cleaning house," I say with a smile, topping off my coffee and lighting another cigarette.

"Then I'm definitely coming, because you are _not_ going to spend your birthday cleaning your already clean house." I can just see her with her hand on her hip.

"That's not quite what I meant, Alice, and I'm pretty sure you'd be _thrilled_ if you understood."

"Thrilled? Really?"

"Yes. _Really_."

"Tell me, please, Bella... I'd _really_ love to be thrilled," she begs.

"I'm de-Pauling the place."

"I'll be right over!" she screams, and the line goes dead.

Well, with hurricane Alice's help, this place will be _spotless_ in no time. There won't be any crying at _this_ party. But maybe some singing doesn't sound so bad after all, as long as it isn't Alice.

_Happy Birthday to me..._

**…**

**You know what I want.**


	3. Chapter 3: In with the New

**Disclaimer**: SM owns Twilight. **New** belongs to Bella. Mine.

**A/N**: It's coming. I promise it is. As for this... it's HER day. This is how she wanted to spend it.

**Chapter Two: In with the New**

What can two femme-forces-of-nature accomplish when they feel inspired?

A fucking shit-ton.

What is it they say... Rome wasn't built in a day?

I beg to differ.

Rome didn't have Alice Brandon-Whitlock.

Or _me_.

But I do.

I have a great friend.

The best a girl could ask for.

And I have _me_.

Because I took her back.

I took _ME_ back.

But not just me...

Rediscovered.

But different.

Better.

_Whole_.

No longer divided.

No longer shared.

Offered.

Or abandoned.

I.

AM.

MINE.

And so is this house... de-Pauled, de-purpled, DECLARED.

Mine again.

Only better.

All of his shit- gone.

Purple- replaced.

Pain- DISMISSED.

_Whoosh... Whoosh... WHOOSH!_

Onward...

My party- productive. Positive.

Without pity.

For me.

For myself.

We talked, we laughed, we planned.

We wasted no time putting that plan into action. Motion.

We threw out the old and brought in the new.

A lot of new.

Clothes- edgier.

Shoes- with heels. High ones.

The abandoner wasn't very tall. Didn't like me to wear heels. They intimidated him. Made him feel like less of a man.

Like _other_ things did...

Things he wouldn't allow.

Things he took away.

Things I replaced when he left.

I didn't deprive myself of _that_...

And today, I added to my collection.

My arsenal.

I splurged.

Gifts to myself on _my_ day.

That give instead of take.

Provide instead of demand.

That _stay_, strong and firm, as long as I need them to. Until _I'm_ provided for. Longer.

That _hum_ instead of snore. Like music to my ears. Softer.

Gifts, with an 's'... I couldn't decide on just one. I don't have to.

I have choices.

I made many...

Couch and chairs- overstuffed. Chocolate. Leather. Sumptuous.

Pillows. Lots of them. Red. Chocolate. Cream. Everywhere...

On the couch. On the chairs. On the floor.

Because he hated them.

No...

Because_ I LOVE THEM_.

Drapes- long. Touch the floor in pools of red.

Sheets- satin. Black. I can't wait to feel them against my bare skin.

Pillows- feather. Decadent. Angel's wings to carry my dreams.

Duvet- down. Luxurious. A heavenly shield from the cold.

Feathers. They'll surround me.

Feathers galore...

The abandoner was allergic.

I'm _not_.

I like them.

I missed them.

So I bought them.

And a new bed to put them on.

For _me_.

Mastercard fell in love with me today. Deeply.

Then I made it love me more.

It dropped to its knees.

And my hair that was nearly to mine...

Because the abandoner wouldn't let me...

CUT.

The weight lifted.

Dismissed, like the pain.

The hypnotic _sh sh sh_ of the scissors setting me free...

_Whoosh..._

Gone.

But not thrown out...

I'm going to donate it.

Share my new freedom.

Make someone else happy.

Make someone else smile.

Like I'm smiling now...

At my new kitten.

I got a cat.

I've always wanted a cat.

My mother was allergic.

To cats. And to _me_, apparently.

Because she left.

Disappeared in the night while I slept.

Like him.

The abandoner was allergic, too.

To _both_, apparently.

Like her.

And they can both burn in hell.

While I play with my cat.

My kitten...

He's adorable.

Black.

Except for his paws.

White.

And the fur that starts at his little neck and covers his belly like a dress shirt in a tuxedo jacket.

And his whiskers and kitten brows... white and wild.

He has bright green eyes.

Full of life.

Full of intent.

Determination.

He has a plan...

A strategy...

To charge.

To conquer...

A shopping bag.

To retreat, run around the chair, and charge again.

Infiltrate.

Seize.

_Claim_.

He got a new home today.

I think he's happy.

And so am I.

Happy he's here.

A new friend.

And happy for the old ones that just left.

I was wrong about the birthday wishes.

Alice's wasn't the only one.

And she wasn't the only one that wanted to rush right over and see the new me.

Help her start fresh.

Join the party where there would be no tears.

They came.

Once we settled in from our shopping spree.

It was no formal affair.

This was a working party.

They came dressed and ready with smiles on their faces.

They jumped right in to our plan.

Furniture to move.

Walls to paint.

Old to haul away.

New to welcome.

They were happy to do it.

_Thrilled_, like Alice.

To help me take my life back.

We worked.

We laughed.

We drank.

A lot.

There _were_ tears, but not the sad kind...

They were the kind that come from laughing so hard that it bubbles up and over and out your eyes.

I think this was the best birthday I've ever had.

But I'm not done celebrating.

I stub out my cigarette and get up from the chair.

Close the window to the cool night air.

My new red drapes left open, so my new furry friend can play by the moonlight.

I flip the lights and bid him goodnight, just as he climbs said new red drapes.

I suppose I should be mad, but I laugh instead.

Tomorrow we'll cut his nails.

But tonight we have no rules.

We do what we want.

We explore.

We conquer.

We enjoy our new home.

We live.

"Good night, Figaro," I say again, as I free him from the drapes and set him on his feet.

He wiggles his little kitten butt and lunges for the bag again.

He could care less at the moment about the toys I bought him.

I, on the other hand, am looking forward to mine.

I head to the bathroom with a smile on my face.

A smile that gets bigger as I turn on the light and see the toothPASTE waiting for me on the counter, still in it's box and topped with a big red bow.

After Figaro, my favorite gift to myself.

Maybe...

For now.

Ask me in an hour.

Or _two_.

**...**

**Now that she's all settled in _new_, what do you suppose she'll find to do? _Cue creepy tune..._**


	4. Chapter 4: Clawing

**Disclaimer**: SM owns Twilight. Clawing? Me. And her. And it.

**A/N**: It turned into a shit day. So I figured why not?

**Chapter Three: Clawing**

Day 2 of new.

Woke up in heaven.

My new bed.

Not alone.

There was a tiny cat curled around my head.

Figaro...

Still my favorite gift to myself.

ToothPASTE...

NOT the second.

Or even the third...

**...**

I like my new home.

Well... new _again_.

So does Figaro.

Especially the drapes.

_Loves_ them.

I like them too, but I liked them better when he didn't.

Oh, Figaro...

My cat.

I like my cat.

Love him, in fact.

He just loves the drapes.

Climbed them more times than I can count...

Kind of annoying.

But cute as fuck.

I cut his nails.

After he made me bleed. The _tenth_ time.

I went out and bought him a scratch post.

It sits. Unscratched.

He prefers _me_.

There's something okay about that.

**...**

Night 2 of new.

I'm restless.

Anxious, in a sense.

Why?

I don't know.

It's just... _something_.

Clawing at me.

Like Figaro.

But not.

Clawing...

Wanting out.

Eating at me.

From inside.

Wanting...

Something.

Needing...

OUT.

**...**

I couldn't sleep.

Even in my heavenly new bed.

The clawing wouldn't let me.

Wouldn't stop.

I tried to ignore it.

I couldn't.

I tried to fight it.

I lost.

I got up.

Got dressed.

Went for a drive.

Ended up in a bar.

I don't know why.

The clawing didn't specify what it wanted.

What it was trying to get at.

Get _to_.

It just wanted out.

This thing.

This thing inside.

That claws at me.

Tears at me.

I wish I could see it.

Know what it looks like.

I tried to talk to it...

Asked it what it wanted.

It didn't answer.

It refuses to talk.

It only claws.

It doesn't hurt...

It just... _is_.

Present.

There.

Here.

_Hungry_.

That's what it feels like.

A hunger.

For?

I don't know.

It won't tell me.

It refuses to talk.

So I wait.

**...**

There's a couple fighting in a booth to my left.

She's drunk.

Getting loud.

He's getting annoyed.

Quietly.

I'm trying to ignore them.

Her.

Like the clawing.

I can do neither.

She's getting louder.

So is the thing.

Inside.

I can hear it now.

_"Watch."_

Watch what?

_"Just watch."_

It's a lovers' spat.

I don't want to watch.

But I can't help but _hear_.

They're arguing.

About sex.

She says he wants it too much.

He says she doesn't want it enough.

She says too bad.

He says it will be.

She asks what does that mean?

He says she knows.

She says she doesn't.

He says she'll see.

She says don't threaten me.

He says stop being a prude.

She asks what does that mean? Again.

He says she knows. Again.

She says she doesn't. Again.

He says she doesn't care about his needs.

She says his needs are strange.

He says don't be a prude. Again.

She says don't be an asshole.

He says don't be an uptight bitch.

She says he can sleep in his own bed tonight. With his hand.

He says it's better than sleeping with her.

He says at least his hand gives him what he wants.

She says fuck you.

He says I dare you. Right here.

She says he's disgusting.

He says she's a bore.

She says he wants a whore.

He says YES, I DO. For an hour.

She says go find one.

He says I will.

He gets up.

Grabs his keys.

He says go find a ride.

He's leaving.

She says you wouldn't.

He says I am.

She says DON'T.

She says she didn't mean it.

He says too bad. Too late.

She says I'm sorry.

He says you are. In bed.

She starts to cry.

He laughs.

He turns his back on her.

She cries harder.

She cries don't.

He keeps walking.

Away from her.

She begs him to come back.

He doesn't.

She screams she's sorry.

She begs.

She says she _will_. Whatever he wants.

The door closes behind him.

She doesn't follow.

_I_ do.

The clawing stops.

I don't need it to tell me anymore.

It knows.

_I_ know.


	5. Chapter 5: Famous Last Words

Disclaimer: **Twilight? Belongs to SM. Famous Last Words? MINE. And _hers_.**

A/N: **She couldn't sleep. Maybe she doesn't like warm milk? Who are we to judge?**

*****This is for my princess **HotSexyRobsten**. It was her birthday a few days ago. Just like Bella. Sorry it's late, babe. And... well, you can decide if I should be sorry for anything else.

******And btw... there may be some sexual content up ahead. And some violence. _Something_. Rated M and all that shit.

Now... **Take it away, Bella!**

**Chapter Four: Famous Last Words**

Why do they walk away?

Turn their backs?

Leave us waiting.

Hurting.

Why is it so easy for them?

And so hard for us?

**...**

We stay.

We try.

We fight.

They _walk_.

Whether we see or don't.

Whether we're begging them with pleading eyes or peacefully unaware behind closed lids.

They turn.

They walk.

Slither.

Creep.

Abandon.

Leave tears.

Behind.

**...**

We wait.

I waited.

We cry.

I cried.

She's still sitting there...

Crying.

Left behind with only her tears.

Left.

Alone.

_Abandoned_.

**...**

I watch as he strolls to his car without a care in the world.

Not a single thought of what he left behind.

Waiting.

Hurting.

Her.

He doesn't think of her.

Out of sight...

Out of mind.

Out.

**...**

He's parked right next to my car in the dark lot.

He looks up as I approach.

He smiles.

I look back to the door.

Wanting her to come through it.

He _doesn't_.

He doesn't look.

He doesn't want.

Her.

And she doesn't come.

**...**

He speaks.

To me.

Not her.

_Me_.

"A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be going home alone."

_Neither should she..._ "And what would you suggest a beautiful woman like me be doing instead?"

"Going home with me."

_Asshole. She's only feet away..._ "Is that right?"

"It is."

"Well, I'm not really the kind of woman that likes to do what people think I should do." _Anymore._

"I respect that."

_Liar._

"So, what _do_ you like to do?"

What do I like to do? No one has asked me that for a very long time. No one has cared. This asshole doesn't either, but...

Do I even know the answer? I know what I used to like to do. _Before_.

Now...

Now I just want...

To _feel_.

Good.

Bad, even.

Just...

Feel.

Something.

"Different things."

"Well, then you're in luck. _I'm_ different."

_No, you're not. You're all the same._ "So, you're suggesting that I do _you_?"

"Absolutely."

_What a dick..._ "And I should want to because?"

"Simply put... I'm a great fuck."

_You're a fuck, that much is true..._ "You all _think_ you are."

"Fair enough. Some guys are all talk, I'm sure. I'm not one of them. Let me prove it to you."

"And if you can't?"

"Oh, I don't know... you can _punish_ me."

_Now we're on the same page..._ "Give me your address. Maybe I'll show up and do just that."

I watch as he leans into his car without hesitation and opens the glove box. He pulls out a pen and a small notepad and jots down his address. His expression is cocky as he walks around to where I stand at my own car and holds it out to me. I glance back to the door of the bar where pain waits for him inside. His eyes never leave _me_.

He doesn't care about her pain.

I bet she'll care about his.

**...**

He never once looked back.

He only looked ahead.

To me.

To the road as he pulled out.

To what he thought would come to his door.

To moving on.

But he won't.

He won't move on.

His own door is as far as he'll get.

Inside.

He won't come out again.

**...**

An hour later I drive by his apartment. Lights are on inside.

He's waiting.

For me.

It's late. The rest of the block is dark.

At peace.

There are no other cars parked in front of his place. His is the only one.

She didn't come.

Because still she waits.

Like I did.

But she won't wait as long.

Won't hope day after day for something that will never come back to her.

She won't suffer waiting.

Like I did.

Her pain will be quick.

Then she'll move on.

Quicker.

**...**

I park a few blocks away and walk.

No one is on the street.

I'm alone.

No...

Not alone.

There's _something_.

Inside.

Alive.

Breathing.

Waiting.

Like him.

**...**

The door is slightly ajar when I reach it. I don't have to touch it.

He was confident.

Too confident.

I nudge it open with the tip of my boot.

I see him immediately.

Sitting in a chair with a direct view of the door.

Sitting.

Kicked back.

Relaxed.

Cocky.

Assuming.

_Careless_.

I step just far enough inside to knock the door closed with my elbow.

He smiles. "Welcome."

A wide open invitation.

One he'll regret making.

I smile at _that_, not him.

But he doesn't know that.

"Come in, get comfortable." He pats his leg.

If I wanted to sit, his lap would be my only option. The place is a sty.

"I'm good for now."

"Scared of something?"

_You should be._ I shake my head in response.

He's perplexed but doesn't waste time on it. "Thirsty?" He holds up a bottle of whiskey. There's an empty glass next to him. His is in his other hand.

I find my voice again. "Not yet. But it's good that _you_ are."

"Why is that?"

"I made getting me here easy for you. You'll have to _earn_ anything else you want."

"Is that right?"

"Yes it is." _Even men on death row get a last meal._

"And if I decide I'm _not_ thirsty anymore?"

_Then you'll die without one._ "You won't."

"You're confident. I like that."

_Oh, just you wait..._

"And you're right, so if you brought me something to drink, come over here and open up the tap."

_Lucky fuck. _"I'll open it, but you have to come over here to get a drink."

He's intrigued by the game. He's up and walking towards me.

He reaches for my face. I shake my head.

"I don't get a kiss?"

I shake my head again.

He's revisiting perplexed. He doesn't get it. Women _always_ want to be kissed. Don't they?

_No, asshole, not all._ "Knees."

He drops to them instantly. _Obedient little fuck..._

I'm almost too disgusted by it to let him...

But not quite.

Obedient is getting overanxious. He reaches for the button of my jeans.

I smack his hands away. "Don't touch."

He really doesn't understand. Not that he should, I suppose...

I pop the button and slide down the zipper. He smiles.

It will probably be his last.

I push my jeans and panties over my hips and down, but not off. He licks his lips.

_You're not worthy, but you'll pay for that, too._ "Mine taste better, I assure you."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

"Then get to it before I change my mind."

"Whatever you say." He reaches for my hips this time.

I smack his hands away again. "MOUTH ONLY."

"Okay. Just tell me your name first."

_Since I'm toying with him anyway..._ "Nalah."

"Like the lion in that Disney movie?"

_Not even close, you clueless fuck..._ "Your tongue should be moving but I shouldn't be hearing it. Cut the chit chat."

He laughs.

My brows lift in warning and I grab him by the hair.

He stops.

I yank his head and bring his mouth to me.

He groans.

And digs in to his last meal like he _knows_.

But he doesn't.

He can't.

Yet he does...

You'd think the man was starving.

Maybe he was.

Or just insatiable...

Isn't that why I'm here?

Indirectly speaking?

Because he _needed_ too much?

It's almost a shame that I'm going to kill him...

His tongue is worthy of a pardon.

Really. Fucking. Worthy.

He licks.

He sucks.

He whirls.

And twirls.

Figure fucking eights...

The Stars on Ice have fewer moves.

Salchows and axels got nothin on this doomed son of a bitch's tongue...

And I thought my birthday was over.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

I brace myself against his mouth.

I lose it.

Hard.

Shaking legs.

Thumping heart.

Braced.

I try to get my bearings.

Back.

My focus.

Back.

_Focus_.

Oh...

_Fuck_.

What was I thinking?

Houston, we have a problem!

Supertongue just had a shower... with my DNA!

Really. Not. Good.

Well, it _was_, but...

Plan awry! Plan awry!

Okay... all is not lost. Fluids, yes, but not all.

I'll just have to improvise.

"My turn."

_What?_

He dropped his pants. Really fucking fast...

_Nice try, drippy... forgot you were here for a minute there._

_But a nice segue, nonetheless..._ "It's only fair, I suppose."

"And _you_ can use your hands."

_Yeah, to pull up my pants. For you... tweezers._

Poor drippy. No wonder he's so good with his tongue, HE HAS TO BE! Maybe he meant to say he was a really great _suck_?

I don't even bother trying to hide my pity. Or amusement... "I'll take care of you, though I think _one_ hand will more than suffice. Now, all you have to do is take a shower. _Then_ it's your turn." _Wash me off, asshole... then you'll get yours. Cross my cold, dead heart._

"You're awfully demanding. And for the record, looks can be deceiving."

_If you only knew..._ "It'll be worth it. A night to remember. I promise." _For me..._

"Well, since you promise... "

"Brush your teeth, too... remove all traces of me, and maybe you'll even get a kiss."

"Yes, ma'am. Now are you going to stand in front of that door all night?"

"No. Actually... if you run along like a good boy, I might even join you in a minute."

_That's right... just like that... _

Crisis _averted_.

My heart starts to beat fast again as I watch him turn his back.

Walk away.

For the last time.

But this time, what he leaves behind him doesn't cry.

Doesn't wait.

Doesn't stay.

I follow.

After a moment.

I stop a few feet from the bathroom door and listen.

I can hear him brushing his teeth.

Just like I told him to.

Another moment later, the shower curtain draws back and the water starts. The curtain draws closed again.

With him inside.

I move.

Back down the hall to the small kitchen.

To the butcher block on the counter.

I pull my gloves from my jacket pockets.

Slide them on.

Wrap my gloved hand around a handle.

Slide it out.

Excitement courses through me.

The clawing returns.

Pushes me down the hall.

Propels me forward.

Into the steam-filled bathroom.

"You ready for me?"

The clawing says yes.

So does he.

"Close your eyes, I have something special for you."

He's obedient. I know he's done as he was told.

I draw the curtain back.

He speaks. For what may be the last time.

"Don't you want to know my name?"

_No..._ "If you want to tell me."

"I'm Paul."

_How unfortunate for you. Famous last words, indeed._

I reach around him and slice the knife across his throat.

Then I shove it into his back.

Leave it there.

Draw the curtain closed as he hits the tub floor.

_It was nice to meet you, _Paul_. The pleasure was all mine..._

This time.

**...**

**Cue evil laugh...**


	6. Chapter 6: Truth, Lies, and Hope

Disclaimer**: SM owns Twilight. I own Truth. Lies and Hope are New Bella's.**

A/N**: Happy Thanksgiving to those of you celebrating it. May your mashed potato bowls never empty! Okay... well, mine at least. This won't spoil any appetites, I promise. **

**For those of you SHOCKED by the last chapter... _If_ you're still here... Did you not see the trail of crumbs I left?**

**Chapter Five: Truth, Lies, and Hope**

The walk back to my car was quick, but unhurried.

The drive home calm and relaxed.

The sound of the washing machine the only noise in the still house.

Just in case.

I was greeted with quiet.

And a dismantled box of tissues.

Figaro.

Perhaps he knew I didn't need them anymore.

**...**

Who am I?

Now?

The reflection in the mirror is unchanged.

I still stand here.

Looking.

For something.

Anything.

Any change.

But nothing.

My reflection is the same.

I'm the same.

My hands don't shake.

My lip doesn't tremble.

I don't look any different.

I don't feel any different.

Well...

I don't feel any guilt.

No sorrow.

No remorse.

But something...

A sense of...

Accomplishment.

That's different.

I haven't felt that since...

But I feel it now.

And I want more.

I want to accomplish more.

Work.

I want to work.

I start the shower with a smile on my face.

A smile because I found that part of me I'd lost.

The part that couldn't anymore.

There were no stories.

I couldn't hear them.

I couldn't tell them.

The pages were blank.

Empty...

But I hear them now.

The stories.

They're waiting to be told.

Shared.

Given.

Gifts to frightened minds.

Sweet dreams to replace their nightmares.

I'm going to fill the pages.

Chase the monsters from under the bed and behind the closet door.

Tired, dimple-cheeked heads will settle against soft pillows.

Wide, fearful eyes will close.

Unafraid.

We're going to sleep again.

**...**

Clean.

Refreshed.

Body.

Mind.

Heart.

The words come easily.

The pages fill.

As fast as my fingers can move.

My fingers.

His paws.

Figaro keeps jumping on the keyboard.

He's found a new game.

He thinks I'm playing.

My work is his play.

His play is more work for me.

I'm spending just as much time backspacing his contributions as I am writing my own.

But it's too adorable to bother me.

Bother me like my phone that's now ringing at my feet.

Who the hell would be calling me now?

I pull it from my bag on the floor next to me, look at the screen.

Alice.

Of course.

Maybe she had a nightmare.

She always calls me after she wakes from a nightmare.

Hoping I have a story that will chase it away.

"What's wrong?"

"You're up?"

"Yes. Would you rather have woken me?"

"No. I just figured I would. You know... being the middle of the night and all."

"Well, I know why I'm up, why are you up? Bad dream?"

"No. Not this time. Jasper got called to a crime scene."

_Is that so? I wonder..._

"And you're afraid to sleep alone in the house."

"Of course I am. Being married to a cop hasn't changed that."

"I'll turn the porch light on for you. Or are you also too afraid to leave the house by yourself?" Sometimes she is, sometimes she isn't.

"I think I can do it this time."

"Well, then come on. Figaro and I will protect you."

"Will you stay on the phone with me until I'm driving?"

"Of course I will."

"Thanks, Bella. You're the sweetest."

Am I?

_I don't think so..._

**...**

"You're writing? That's why you were up?" She stares in blissful surprise at the words on the open laptop as she pulls off her jacket, revealing pink polka-dotted pajamas.

Now, _that_ is sweet. "I was feeling inspired."

She throws her arms around me with such force that it knocks me off balance. "Oh, Bella! You really are better!"

"You're like a miniature Mack truck, Alice," I laugh, "and yes, I suppose I am."_ Though some may not agree..._

"I'm so proud of you. I knew you'd snap out of it."

_Or just snap..._

I nod my thanks and give her a wry smile. "So, want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Something stronger?"

"Don't you worry about me, I can take care of myself. You get back to what you were doing. Your public, most importantly _me_, has waited far too long for their next bedtime story!"

I laugh as she pushes me back down on the couch and places my hands on the keys, knowing that Alice is my biggest fan over the age of six. She waits expectantly and I know she won't leave the room until my fingers start moving. I find my renewed focus easily and pick up where I left off, and Figaro instantly comes running to resume his game.

"You silly boy!" Alice squeals and picks him up. "You can help me in the kitchen, your mommy has a masterpiece to write, and we mustn't disturb her!"

I can't help but smile at the two tiny, dark-furred creatures as they leave the room. "Ow! Figaro!" I hear, "You're a kitten, not a tiger! Those little teeth sure are deceiving... "

_Oh Alice, you of all people should know... NEVER judge a book by it's cover..._

**...**

Sleep?

Haven't had any.

Alice?

Curled up next to me getting some for both of us.

Figaro?

In my purse.

And the recently printed pages.

Which he attacked as they spit out of the printer.

My accomplishment.

His.

_Ours_.

I gave him a home.

He gave me back my words.

A new story.

It didn't come from the clawing.

The clawing helped me escape the silent prison...

But he showed me how simple joy could be.

How easily found.

How easily jumped right into.

Claimed.

**...**

I look down at Alice, her feet tucked under my leg.

Sleeping.

Peacefully.

No fears.

She feels safe here.

Safe.

With me.

Should she?

Would she?

If she knew?

Would I ever again be able to calm her with a story?

Chase away her bad dreams?

Or would I be the source of new nightmares?

New fears?

I push the questions down and away as blue eyes meet mine. "Was I snoring?" she asks.

"No. Quiet as a mouse," I answer with a smile.

"Tell Jasper that. He says I snore."

"Men lie."

Her eyes turn instantly sad, but I tickle her feet and she forgets her pity just as quickly.

I always make her forget.

Somehow.

And she can never know.

The cover must tell the story.

The one I'm willing to share.

Not the one that lies inside.

_Lies_.

They're all I can give her now.

"So, it's done."

"Already?"

"I told you I was feeling inspired. The urge struck and I went with it."

"And you're happy with it? No second guessing?"

"No... it felt good."

"Felt or _feels_?"

"Both." _Truth among lies..._

"Illustrations?"

"Rough ones."

"Colored?"

"Not without _you_."

"You'll never be without me, Bella."

Truth?

_I hope so..._

**_..._**

**At least she has hope for something...**

**As do I, I suppose. Reviews are like a day-after-Thanksgiving turkey sandwich.**


	7. Chapter 7: Biscuits and Gravy

Disclaimer: **SM owns Twilight**

A/N: **Maybe I was hungry?**

**Chapter Six: Biscuits and Gravy**

"Do you think she did it?"

"Do I think who did what?"

"The girlfriend. Do you think she killed him? I mean, have you ever had a fight with a guy that made you mad enough to want to kill him?"

_There was no fight..._ "You know me, Alice, I've never really been the fighting type."

"True. You're much too sweet."

_Yeah, that's me..._ "Have you?"

"Well, I've thrown things. I mean, when you think about it, I suppose it's just luck that none of my flying objects has ever killed anyone."

"Luck or the fact that you couldn't hit a... "

"Be nice! I'm right next to you and I have fists of fury!"

I burst out laughing and she sticks her tongue out at me. Other than a few schoolyard incidents when we were kids, Alice isn't the fighting type either. And those were necessary lessons in manners. I can't help but smile at the memories. One especially.

"Remember when you gave Mike Newton a bloody nose?"

"Yes I do! That _was_ a fist of fury! Nobody pulls my Bella's hair and gets away with it! I showed him!"

"Yes you did. He never pulled my hair again. Or any girl's, perhaps."

"Actually, that's not true. Don't you remember the night Jess had one too many - or ten - and ended up in Tyler Crowley's parents' bedroom with him at that party?"

"I remember that he came limping down the hall _afterwards_."

"Exactly. A little hair pulling can be fun, but don't try that shit if you're Mike Newton. That's just not sexy. Now, Jasper, on the other hand... "

"Is here." He walks through the open front door, Figaro in hand - or rather, _biting_ hand - and gives her a wicked smile and a tug of her hair before leaning down to kiss my cheek. "Did she keep you up all night?"

"No, she fell asleep for a few hours. My lack of sleep is my fault and mine alone."

"She's writing again!" Alice's excitement hasn't waned one bit since she woke to printed pages.

"Is she now?"

I answer his raised-in-approval brows with an innocent shrug. "A little something."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, darlin, though if I know you, which I do, there's nothing little about it." He gives me a genuine smile, knowing full well how big of a deal it really is that I wrote anything at all.

"Alice likes it, I think."

"Don't listen to her, Jasper, I love it!"

"Well, I look forward to snuggling up in bed and reading it to you."

She squeals with delight at this, and I laugh, fully aware of their ritual. I think it's his voice more than my stories that lulls her to sleep at night, but it's no less an honor to be a part of it.

"We have to celebrate!"

"That sounds like a great idea, when I've had some sleep. And Bella." He gives a still-biting Figaro a lion-like roar, which doesn't faze him in the least, and turns back to Alice, "You ready to go, Pixie Bell?"

"I thought we were all going to eat breakfast together? Or brunch, I guess, since it's late. We were waiting for you."

"I wish you wouldn't have waited, I'm beat. I don't think I could keep my eyes open long enough to eat."

"But... "

"It's okay, Alice. I'll wrap it up for you guys. You can warm it up for him later. Just call me when he wakes up and I'll tell you how."

"But you made his favorite!" she protests.

"And he'll eat it _later_. He's tired... "

He looks suddenly a lot _less_ tired as his eyes perk up. "My favorite?"

"Yes, your _favorite_. You said you were hungry on the phone and Bella made biscuits and gravy special for you. You can't just leave now that... "

"If you want to go home, Alice, your car is outside. Wild horses couldn't drag _me_ out of here... " He puts Figaro on his feet and his words fade away as he heads to the kitchen. For a brief second... "Get in here, women!"

"You heard him," she giggles, tugging on my hair, "My man is hungry!" She loops her arm with mine, and whispers in my ear as she pulls me towards the kitchen, "And your biscuits and gravy is just the aphrodisiac a tired southern boy needs to turn into a _wild horse_. I am so gonna owe you... "

If I wasn't already laughing at Alice's remark, I certainly would start as we enter the kitchen and find Jasper seated at the table with a napkin tucked into his shirt and a fork in his fisted and waiting hand.

"Isn't he just the cutest thing?" she asks, her face beaming with adoration.

"Definitely," I say, smiling as I put his plate in front of him and his face lights up like a child's on Christmas morning._ Although not in my childhood home..._ "Which is why you're the perfect couple."

He wastes no time on his usual southern gentleman manners and digs right in before we've even sat down, the temptation too much to resist. His shining blue eyes close as he takes a bite and I know _tired_ has nothing to do with it. Or the moan that follows.

Until last night, it had been a long time since I served a man something and heard any appreciation for it...

But this is different than that, of course, and his charming southern drawl brings me back to the present, "I don't know, darlin... sometimes I wonder if I married the wrong woman."

Alice tousles his wavy mane of blond hair and then sits next to him. "I'll only not kill you for saying that because you said it to Bella, and your charm doesn't work on her anymore."

"I am well aware of that," he says as he takes another bite. "And will be forever in your debt for picking up the pieces of my broken-by-Bella heart all those years ago."

I give him a playful, sorrowful pout and he winks at me. Jasper and I were high school sweethearts, and I did break his heart - and my own - and our engagement, a year and a half after graduation, but I only did it because I knew I would never look at him the way Alice did. I loved him, but the torture I began to notice in Alice's eyes when we were all together was something much greater than that. She never said anything, never acted on her feelings, and never would have, but I could see it. She loved him in a way I didn't, maybe never would, a love beyond our young years, a love beyond understanding, and I couldn't keep something that I knew was meant for her.

It took time for them to get together, time for Jasper to heal and open himself again, time for him to see...

And even more time once he did, neither of them thinking it was appropriate because of me, but I did my best to push them towards each other. Once they understood that it truly wouldn't hurt me, that it was what I wanted for both of them, they finally stopped denying themselves, and have been together ever since. It's the best thing I've ever done. For _them_.

I can't say I've never wondered how happy my life might have been if I hadn't made the decision I did, but seeing _their_ happiness is worth what I robbed myself of. The one man in my life that loved me for me. That never wanted anything from me but my affection. That gave his freely. I gave it up... gave him up... so he could give it to someone that ached from not having it. Someone I loved that I thought needed it more. Someone I wanted to have the most beautiful life possible. I knew he would give it to her. A life full of love.

Maybe you only get one chance. Or maybe that's only true for me because I gave mine away.

Maybe a love-filled life just isn't meant to be for me...

I knew that already, I suppose, because apart from Jasper, and my friendship with Alice, everything that came before and after was anything but love-filled. Not that I didn't try to change that, I did everything I could to make myself lovable to someone else...

Agreeable.

Wanted.

Needed.

So much that I lost myself.

Forgot who _I_ was.

What _I_ wanted... needed... loved...

And it was all for nothing, because that lifeless shell _wasn't_ loved.

Wasn't wanted or needed.

Wasn't valued.

Wasn't anything, but the lifeless, loveless shell I'd become trying to be more.

I tried too hard.

Gave up too much.

I was empty, like my house became around me.

But my house now? At this moment?

Love-filled is what it is.

Overflowing.

Not empty.

Not lifeless.

I smile as I watch them now, something I couldn't do just a short time ago. It was too hard. Reminded me too much of what I'd lost. Given away...

As much as I love them both, I was hurting too much to spend much time with them together after...

But I'm done crying over spilled milk, or dumped out in this case, and having them here together and as blissfully in love as ever is just what I need.

It's freeing.

Healing.

Filling.

It's proof that what's inside of me is valid.

The clawing.

Like another clawing long ago that I didn't ignore.

Couldn't.

That broke our hearts but filled theirs.

I was selfless.

I've always been selfless.

I had to empty my heart and replace it with hurt for theirs to be _full_.

I don't regret my choice.

I'm not sorry.

I'm still selfless enough to be happy for them.

But not so selfless not to want something for myself.

Something.

Comfort...

Like biscuits and gravy that I now fill Jasper's plate with for the second time.

Like love.

Love that surrounds me and fills my home.

It's not just a house anymore.

It's a home again.

_Comfort_.

Something...

But not enough.

I feel Figaro's tiny claws on my feet under the table.

Scratching...

Trying to get my attention.

Trying to tell me something.

I'm not empty anymore.

_I know, Figaro..._

_I feel it too._

xx

**So, yeah...**


	8. Chapter 8: Easy

**Disclaimer**:** SM owns Twilight. Easy belongs to me. Catwoman? Also me, but originally... Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Hope they don't mind. I can think of worse versions. MUCH WORSE...**

**A/N**:** First of all, I hope everyone had a lovely holiday. As for me... I'M GLAD IT'S OVER. If you knew my family, you'd understand. I'd like to turn Bella loose on a few of them... b****ut I'll just give you this instead. See you at the bottom.**

**...**

**Chapter Seven: Easy**

Easy.

The way he walked away from her.

Kept walking as she cried.

Begged him to come back.

Chased him down the street.

She chased him.

She fought.

The fight was easy...

For her.

Automatic.

She didn't think.

Her heart thought for her.

Told her legs to move.

Easy.

She thought he was worth it.

It was easy for him, too.

To keep walking.

Away from her.

Because she wasn't worth it to him.

I saw it in his eyes.

As he walked past me.

I saw it on his cruel mouth.

As he laughed at her.

His hateful hands.

As she tried to pull him back and he shoved her away from him.

That's all he gave her.

Cruelty.

Because it was easy.

Like when a mother leaves her sleeping child so she won't have to see her tears when she goes.

Easy for _her_, the heartless bitch.

Easy...

Like when an equally heartless man leaves the woman he says he loves as she, too, sleeps.

Easy for _him_.

Not for her.

The woman, who he knew as a child was left just that way, asleep in her bed.

But it was still easy.

He repeated the cruelty.

She wasn't worth it.

The child.

To her.

The woman.

To him.

Them.

_Easy_.

Leaving is easy for them.

The heartless.

Turning their backs.

Hurting those they leave behind.

They don't say they're sorry.

They don't say goodbye.

It's too easy not to.

Easy...

The way they forget.

He'd already forgotten.

It was easy.

The way he smiled at me moments after he left her.

She wasn't smiling as she watched him.

Wasn't smiling as she turned and walked away.

Because she gave up her fight.

Because she knew she wasn't worth it to him anymore.

She saw it in his eyes.

She heard it in his laughter.

She felt it in his hands.

She wasn't smiling.

Like I am now.

At him.

At opportunity.

The knife in his hand, slicing through the lime and then laid on the counter.

So easy...

"You sure you're not thirsty?" He holds the bottle of Corona out to me.

_My mouth is watering, but not for that._

I shake my head.

"You're kind of quiet. I like that. The last woman I was with never shut up."

_You mean the one you were with an hour ago? Asshole._

He sits his beer down on the counter and reaches for me.

I step back.

"Why so shy all of a sudden?"

I smile and shrug.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours? Hmm?"

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

_You don't want to know._

I smile again and grab his shirt, pulling it wordlessly from his jeans.

He raises his brows.

I pop the button on the denim and slide down the zipper.

He smiles, but looks down at my hands before back up at me. "Don't you want to take off your gloves?"

I free him from his jeans and boxer briefs, with no resistance at all, and push them down with a shake of my head.

His confused expression disappears the second I take him in my gloved hand.

It's replaced with a stupid, greedy grin.

Easy.

He thinks it's his lucky night.

He's wrong.

I remove my hand and speak two simple words. "Turn around."

He sees it in my eyes.

The want.

The need.

He thinks it's for him.

It is, but definitely not the way he thinks.

And I'm anxious to show him just how much.

Want.

Need.

_It_.

Me.

Us?

Are we separate?

Me and the clawing?

No...

I'm not alone anymore.

It's inside.

Real.

Alive.

Part of me.

It...

_Is_.

One.

Us.

Definitely _us_.

And we're getting impatient.

The need.

That he sees, but doesn't quite understand.

I gesture with my finger for him to turn.

He cocks his head to the side curiously but finally does as he's told.

And I don't waste time.

I reach around him and take his cock in my left hand.

He grabs the counter with both of his.

I shift slightly to the right so I can see the side of his face.

His mouth is open, his eyes downward.

Watching.

Feeling.

More than he deserves.

A few strokes, leather to skin, and his eyes fall closed.

I grab the knife from the counter with my right hand, squeeze him with my left.

He moans.

Too easy...

Like the slice of the knife through his unsuspecting throat.

The surge of bliss that courses through me as the flesh splits.

The clawing that brought me here stilled.

Calmed.

Quieted.

Satisfied.

_Almost_.

I ram the knife into his back and shove him away from me.

Just like he did to her.

I smile as he hits the floor with a thud.

And turn and walk away...

Without a glance back.

And without saying goodbye.

_Now_ I'm satisfied.

I leave the apartment and start the walk back to my car.

I left it a few blocks away.

The limited parking on his street an easy excuse.

He didn't question it.

He didn't care.

Now he'll never care about anything ever again.

_If_ he ever did.

I remove the gloves from my hands, pulling them inside out, and shoving them into the pockets of my jacket.

Open the door of my car and get in.

The ice cream I left the house for sits melting on the front seat.

Or maybe it isn't...

It's cold tonight.

Like my heart in my chest.

Or maybe it isn't...

There's a warmth inside of me.

Soothing.

Easy.

I like it.

**...**

**...**

"Why do you need new gloves?"

"I lost mine."

"How do you lose a pair of gloves?"

"I don't know, Alice, I just did."

"Where did you lose them?"

"No idea."

"_When_ did you lose them?"

"What's with the questions, _detective_? They're just gloves, and now I have a new pair, so let's go. I'm starving."

"I just think it's strange. It's not like you to lose anything."

_You're right, it's not. I know where they are. I know where they all are..._

"I was running a bunch of errands the other day. I took them on and off a dozen times. I probably just left them on a counter somewhere or something." I light a cigarette and crack the window, wanting a fix before we get to the smoke-free restaurant.

Alice wrinkles her nose, but doesn't say anything. About _that_. "Did you lose them both or just the right one?"

"Both, why?"

"Because you always take the right one off to smoke. I thought maybe you'd only lost that one."

"Can we mark 'The Case of the Missing Gloves' as _unsolved_ and move on, Alice?"

"Fine. But speaking of unsolved cases, did you see in the paper that now they're saying there's some kind of serial killer on the loose? They found a third body two days ago. Throat slit, knife left in the back, just like the other two."

That one was much too easy. He asked for it. Practically gave me an engraved invitation...

The son of a bitch left his girlfriend stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire.

They were fighting about something as I drove by. The car was jacked up, but they must have started arguing before he got any further. I hadn't paid much attention, and continued on my way, but fifteen minutes later as I was heading home after my last stop, I saw him walking. Alone. I pulled over and asked him if he needed help, thinking about the girl I knew had been with him, the girl who I knew was now alone as well. My intentions were honorable, until he spoke.

_"Well, that's very sweet of you. My bitch, and now EX girlfriend just left me stranded at the bar where I came out of the bathroom to find her hot and heavy with my also now EX best friend."_

He'd continued with his_ poor me_ story, which I knew was a lie, as I drove to his house. The keys he pulled from his pocket did have a car key on them, a Honda key, to be exact, which is what I'd seen jacked up. I only noticed it because the car was the exact color and model that the abandoner had driven.

My blood boiled as I thought about the pretty girl he'd left to fend for herself on the side of the dark road. I didn't know why he'd left his car behind and I didn't care. He'd left _her_. That was all that mattered. That girl deserved better than to be treated that way. And I made sure she wouldn't waste too much time waiting for him to grow a heart and a set of balls and come back.

Like I said... an engraved invitation.

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Lying son of a bitch**

**You are cordially invited to kill me.**

**Date: Today**

**Time: Now**

**Place: Your choosing**

**RSVP in person**

So I did.

"Hello? Bella?"

"Huh?"

"Did you hear me?"

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry. Yeah, serial killer. Wicked shit."

"Where were you just now?"

"Here."

"Well, _you_ were, but your head _wasn't_. Are you okay?"

"Of course. Just hungry." I stub out my cigarette in the ashtray just as Alice pulls into the restaurant parking lot. "I'll be back to normal once I have food. Promise."

"Did you hear about the name they have for her?"

"Name who has for who?"

"The press... whoever. The serial killer."

_Is that what I am? We are? That seems a bit harsh..._

"No, what's the name they have for her? _If_ it's a her, whoever it is."

She rolls her eyes as we take our seats. "Of course it's a _her_, Bella."

"It might not be. What makes you so sure?"

"I just know."

"Did Jasper tell you it was a her?"

She answers my question by _not_ answering it.

_I hear you loud and clear, Alice... thanks for the heads up._

The waiter comes to take our drink orders, and says he'll be back after we've had the chance to look at the menu, but we eat lunch here every week and know the menu by heart. I give him my order immediately, without looking, and so does Alice, after changing her mind three times like she always does before predictably ordering her usual.

And now that she has, she looks like she's going to burst. "So, did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Would you focus, please? Hear the serial killer chick's nickname?"

"No, but you're clearly dying to tell me. What do they call 'her'?"

"Catwoman!"

_What? How the...?_

My throat is suddenly so dry I can barely get the words out. "Why do they call her Catwoman?"

"Well, I don't know exactly, but all of the victims were young, good looking guys with girlfriends, who also all happened to be _naked_ when they were killed ... The assumption is that she's this stunningly beautiful, scorned woman seeking revenge on_ man_kind. She purrs sweetly and lures them in... and then pounces. Straight at the throat, apparently. And does it without being seen, or heard... like a cat. You know how they can sneak up on you. And how they're sweet one minute, and biting you the next... "

"I get it. Catwoman. How clever. Where's the damn waiter?"

He better get here with my drink, and do it quick, or_ Catwoman_'s claws are going to come out. I don't think he'd like that very much...

But it would be so _easy_...

...

**Leave 'em if you have 'em.**

**And a heads up for anyone who doesn't have me on author alert... if you're _here_, maybe sweet isn't your thing, but if you're like me, and like sugar AND spice, I wrote a cavity-inducing little story called Cups Full of Wishes. I think it's pretty special, and I'd love for you to check it out. It's on my profile, of course, along with Come Closer. And don't send me your dentist bills, but reviews are loved. **

**Until next time, I say good bye. And hope you all have a wonderful New Year!**

**CM**


	9. Chapter 9: Warm

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SM. This is MINE.**

**A/N: Let's just get to it.**

**...**

**Chapter Eight: Warm**

He came back.

The abandoner.

The son of a bitch came back.

He was in my house.

While I slept.

He came back the same way he left.

Me.

Unsuspecting.

Unaware.

Vulnerable.

Asleep.

Except this time his slithering wasn't soundless.

A single noise.

He sneezed.

Because I got a cat.

And he's allergic.

And I'm...

Pissed.

Because he's not welcome here anymore.

He had no right.

To come back.

After all this time.

After I stopped waiting.

Stopped hoping.

Stopped...

Living for him.

He had no right.

He knows that now.

I see it in his eyes.

The knowing.

And the not.

He doesn't know me anymore.

Doesn't recognize me.

The me that isn't his.

The me that stopped waiting.

The me that isn't alone anymore.

Me.

The me that's pissed.

_That _he knows.

Sees.

Understands.

_Fears_.

I see it in his eyes.

Wide.

Wild.

Afraid.

He woke me up with a sneeze.

In the middle of the night.

Like when he left, but different.

I don't sleep that soundly anymore.

It's his fault, really.

The sneezing intruder.

I jumped out of bed.

Grabbed the baseball bat from beneath it.

Hit him hard in the back with it...

As he ran.

Like the coward he is.

He fell to the ground.

Screamed "It's me!".

Like I didn't know.

Like it would matter to me.

Make it okay.

It didn't.

I hit him again.

Harder than the first time.

He screamed and started crying like a little bitch.

I told him to shut up or I'd crush his skull.

He believed me.

Stopped screaming.

The tears became silent.

Sort of.

He couldn't stop the sneezing.

He didn't like my cat.

I'm glad he didn't.

Figaro didn't like him either.

Arched his back.

Hissed.

His fur on end.

A warning.

A message...

_You don't belong here._

He told me to keep that thing away from him.

Put it outside.

He shouldn't have done that.

It made me mad.

I hit him in the head with the bat.

Not hard enough to kill him...

But hard enough.

He didn't say another word.

Sneeze another sneeze.

I reached into his jacket pocket.

Found his tie.

Smelled a woman on him.

The one he left before he came here.

The one he fucked.

That's what I smelled.

It made me sick to my stomach.

The smell.

Him.

I pulled his hands behind his back.

Tied them together with his tie.

As tight as I could.

Once I'd put my gloves on.

I'd need to buy more tomorrow.

The third pair this week.

I was annoyed about that.

Pissed.

I decided he should pay.

For the gloves.

For a lot of things...

I pulled his wallet out of his pants.

Took out all the cash.

He always carried too much.

862 dollars.

Idiot.

It probably didn't even cover it...

All of the money I'd spent on disgusting tooth_gel_ and Vitamin D milk.

But it was something.

And he owes me.

And I'm going to take what I'm owed.

What I deserved.

Then.

I'm going to take it.

Now.

In this old abandoned house.

Where a family once lived.

Until a man left.

And his wife thought she couldn't live without him.

And so she didn't.

She ended her suffering while her kids were at school.

Ended hers.

Added to theirs.

He's tied to a chair in the middle of their living room.

A circle of gasoline waiting to wrap him in farewell flames.

I found it in the trunk of his car.

His car with the Oregon license plate.

Telling me where he's been.

So I figured I'd welcome him back.

And poured what was left over his head.

Soaked his clothes.

Replaced the reeking scent with a new one.

"Say goodbye, Paul."

"Bella, please... "

"Say. Goodbye."

"I'm sorry... please... don't do this... "

"SAY IT!"

"I can't. Don't you understand? It's why I didn't... I couldn't... I-"

"SAAAAAAY IIIIIIIIT!"

"No... please... I _can't_... "

"You can. You just won't. And this time I won't wait."

Not another second.

I slice the knife across his throat.

While he's watching me.

Because I wanted him to see.

The smile on my face as I did it.

Because I didn't need to hear it anymore.

I shove the knife into his chest.

Not his back.

Straight through his heart.

The heart that was selfish.

Greedy.

That beat only for himself.

And now beats for no one.

He'll never say the words.

Any words.

To anyone.

I step over the gasoline.

Take a few more steps back.

Strike a match.

Light a cigarette.

Then throw it.

The match.

Watch it ignite.

The gas.

Him.

Flames rise.

Surround him.

Engulf him.

While I watch.

Laugh.

And turn and walk away.

Alive.

**…**

**...**

It's a long walk back to my house.

Dark.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

It gives me time to think.

Clear my senses.

Listen.

To the silence.

I wonder if it will stay...

The silence.

If the clawing will leave me now.

If it's satisfied.

With my offering.

My gift.

To it.

To myself.

I wonder...

If.

**…**

**...**

The hot water of the shower felt good.

The warmth of the fire feels better.

And Figaro on my chest.

Happy.

It's just us again.

The intruder gone.

Never to return.

We watch the flames like a movie.

A musical of sorts.

They dance.

Crackle.

A song.

It soothes.

Lulls.

He stretches out.

Shifts.

Curls into a ball.

Comfortable.

His head on my heart.

His eyes meet mine.

Then close.

He can sleep now.

And me.

With no fear of waking up afraid.

Or alone.

Or surprised.

I drift to sleep with flames dancing behind my eyelids.

Flames like the ones that warm me now...

But not.

Not these.

Not the same.

But still they warm me...

Somewhere...

Inside.

**…**

**...**

I read the headline Alice puts under my nose with a roll of my eyes.

**Is Catwoman catnapping?**

She giggles beside me and Jasper shakes his head. "Your amusement with this case is a little disturbing, babe. There are eight victims waiting for justice."

_They already got their justice... and there were nine, actually. How did you not figure that one out? Don't ashes tell stories? _

Paul's death made the news, though the connection has yet to be made to the other assholes that got what was coming to them. And Alice and Jasper are also yet to bring him up to me, _if _they ever will.

"Face it, Jasper, our little Alice is twisted."

"I'm starting to think so," he says with a wink, before his eyes turn serious, "And that she has no faith that her husband can solve this case."

"That is not true!" she gasps, "Of course you can, and you _will_."

_God, I hope not. THAT would be awkward... _"How _is _that going? Things have gotten quiet, it seems. Any promising leads?"

"Honestly, Bella... no. This woman, whoever she is, has us baffled." He runs his hands through his hair and leans back in his chair. "She leaves no evidence. Nothing. Not a hair, not a thread, _nothing_. It's as if she touches nothing, and _they _don't touch her... which doesn't make sense, since there seems to be a sexual element to each kill. And no one ever hears anything, or sees anything... and the clueless bastards certainly never see it coming...

"But yes, by some grace of God, things have gotten quiet. Whatever it is that was setting her off, hasn't been for a few weeks. I hope it stays that way. For your sake, too."

_What? _"For my sake?"

Alice throws a pillow at him from the couch, sticking her tongue out. "He's talking about me showing up at your door every time he gets a call and has to leave."

"Aaaah, _that_," I say with a playful shudder, earning me a punch in the arm from Alice. "Believe it or not, I really don't mind. I like cute little cuddly things. When they _aren't _hitting me, anyway."

I rub my arm with a pout and stand. "And now I'm going home, where another cute little cuddly thing is probably doing something not so cute and cuddly, like ripping my drapes to shreds. I'll see you guys later."

"But it's early! We haven't even eaten yet," Alice whines, "I promise to put my fists of fury away. Please stay? And _not _because I want you to cook. We can order a pizza or something."

"It _is _early, and you should take advantage of the _quiet_, and spend a nice evening alone with _your _cute and cuddly husband. I'll call you tomorrow, we'll go to lunch or something."

She frowns, but gives up with a hug, and follows me as I grab my jacket and head into the foyer, with Jasper right behind her. He takes the jacket from me and holds it up so I can slip my arms into it, and opens the door, following me outside to my car. Jasper Whitlock... always the gentleman.

"Are you alright, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm good, why?"

"Are you really, or is that just the easy answer these days? Or the one you think we want to hear?"

"It was always the one you wanted to hear, I didn't lie about it then."

"No, you didn't. You didn't say much at all. Not to me, anyway."

"I don't know, Jasper... I guess it was kind of humiliating to talk to you about it."

"Humiliating? Why would you say that?"

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me."

"He's dead. Can we just leave it that way?"

"We can, but I'd really like to know how you could ever feel humiliated to talk to me about anything. It's _me_."

I shake my head with a sigh, "He left me like I was nothing. I didn't want to see the realization in your eyes that maybe that was what I'd become."

"You'd never see that from me, Bella. You could never be nothing. I know better. Better than anyone, maybe. And that hasn't changed. You'll always be something. The most amazing something I've ever known."

I see the love he once felt for me in his eyes. Or feels...

He's where he belongs now, with Alice, but the years we spent together will always be there, inside, sweet memories of a young, untainted love.

"I'm okay. I promise. And thank you."

"I want you to be happy, Bella. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. Cherished. _Again_."

"I'm not sure that's in the cards for me, Jasper. Maybe some of us only get one shot... "

"I don't accept that. Not for you. It will happen... when you least expect it. Someone will come along and know... the moment they lay eyes on you... that you're something special. They'll want you... need you... and will fight to love you. Live to. I promise, it _will _happen. Again."

I glance up at the house, and see Alice in the window, watching us. She has that sad smile on her face that she gets sometimes. The one that says _I'm sorry, but thank you _all at the same time. I blow her a kiss, and plant another on Jasper's cheek, and reach for the door handle of my car. He opens it before I can, and I climb in and look up at him. "Your life is waiting in there. The one _I _fought for. Go live it. _That _will make me happy."

"The most amazing, _selfless _something I've ever known."

I don't say anything, only smile, and put my key in the ignition.

"I'll always be here, Bella. If you need me. Always."

"I know."

He nods his head and closes my door, and I drive away with one thought in my mind, as fear creeps into my heart for the first time. Fear that I may not always have their love.

_Where _I need you.

**…**

**...**

There's a U-Haul trailer in the driveway next door when I pull into mine. The only other driveway on my quiet, peaceful road. The quiet, peaceful road that I've had to myself for more than a year. I noticed about a week ago that the realtor's sign was gone from the yard, but since I hadn't seen anyone come or go, I didn't think much of it.

I get out of my car and unlock the front door, to let Figaro have a few minutes of fresh air. He runs out the second I open it, circles my feet once, and then runs straight next door to investigate.

Shit. I really hope my new neighbors don't hate cats.

"Figaro!" I call, crossing the yard, "Let's not be nosey neighbors. Come back here!"

The front door is open as I come around the U-haul and see Figaro scramble up the porch steps and circle around a pair of black Adidas before rubbing against a dark jean covered leg. The dark jean covered leg that has a voice...

"Well, hello, neighbor. Or... _neighbors_, I guess I should say."

_A really great voice... that came out of an even greater mouth... Hello, sex on a stick! _"Hi. Sorry... I guess he needs a lesson on personal space." _Lucky little fucker..._

"Oh, not at all," he says, reaching down and scooping him up, "I like cats. And it's a nice welcome."

Apparently cats like him, too... or at least mine does. A lot. He's in kitten heaven right now, getting his little head scratched. I don't blame him, I suppose, those long fingers look like they could do magical things...

"That's Figaro." _The luckiest little cat on earth. _"And I'm Bella, and welcome to our quiet little neighborhood."

"Well, I'm Edward, and thank you. And don't worry... I promise I'm not here to change that. Quiet is exactly why I chose this place." He glances towards my house and back to me with curious green eyes. "So, uh... are there any other neighbors I'll be meeting?"

"We're the only two houses on this road." _Obviously, Mr. Beautiful-but-maybe-not-so-bright..._

"Yeah... but no, I mean... uh... "

_Oh... _"Figaro and I are your only neighbors. It's just us here. If that's what you meant."

"It is. And good. Shit... I mean... "

"It _is _good." _And you're fucking adorable. _"So, will _we _be meeting any other new neighbors?"

"No. It's just me. And that's good, too."

_I couldn't agree more..._

Something more than a smile passes between us, and through me, and I'm just about to break the not-so-uncomfortable silence, when Figaro spots an apparently intriguing squirrel and leaps from Edward's arms. In what seems like the blink of an eye, my cat is high in the tree in my new - _And on the 8th day, God created_ - neighbor's front yard.

"Wow, he's really up there. I've never seen him do that before."

"He's a natural."

"He's _high_. I don't suppose you're a fireman and have a truck with a really long ladder parked out back?"

"No, but I _am _a hell of a tree climber."

I watch, instantly mesmerized, as he starts up the tree before I can say another word. Strong, sure hands grip branches, as arms I'd like to feel around me, pull him up. Long, muscular legs flex under low-on-his-hips jeans, the black waistband of what I hope are boxer briefs taunting me with a game of peek-a-boo... and his ass... that I suddenly have an inexplicable desire to take a bite of...

A low chuckle snaps me out of my trance, and I realize I've been caught, as I look up to eyes trained down on my face and a cocked brow.

"Sorry," I say, clearing my throat, "I'm not usually the ogling sort, I swear I'm not... and I swear you don't have a crazy stalker cat lady for a neighbor, but fuck, if you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

_Did I just say that out loud? _

"Wow. And such a compliment on a day that I spent most of behind the wheel before the last two hours I spent unloading boxes... not to mention my current position up a tree trying to rescue your kitten...

"To say I'm flattered would be an understatement of epic proportions. And I believe you about not being a crazy stalker, or cat lady, since you only have one, but I think you may be wrong about the _the most beautiful thing you've ever seen _part. Surely you have a mirror?"

"I do. And a bullshit detector, too."

"Well, if it's going off, then it's broken, because I'm definitely not bullshitting you, Bella. You're a stunningly beautiful woman, and frankly, I'd really like Figaro to cooperate so I could look at you from down there instead of up here."

As if on cue, the furry little tree climbing cockblocker climbs higher instead of lower and I can't help but laugh, though I'm starting to get really nervous for both of them as Edward follows him up.

"Please be careful," I call up to him, "Stunningly beautiful woman getting scared down here."

_Well, look at me... concerned for a man's well-being. Maybe there's still some sweet in there after all. Of course, this isn't just any man... this is 8th day, sex on a stick man..._

"Did you say something?" he calls down to me.

"Be careful?"

"No... after that."

"That I'm getting scared?"

"After that, too. And stunningly beautiful."

"Uh... no. Not out loud."

"Are you sure about that?"

_I think so... _"You don't read minds, do you?"

"I suppose not. Not technically."

"Not technically? What does that mean?"

"Got him!"

I hold my breath as he begins to climb down the tree, now one-armed, since he has a squirming Figaro tucked firmly in the other.

"And what that means," he says as he reaches the bottom and ruffles a biting Figaro's fur before handing him to me, "is that it's my job to get inside people's minds."

_You've got to be kidding me... _"You're a shrink?"

"No. Definitely not."

"A tree climbing psychic? Oh God, let me guess... the leaves speak to you?"

"No," he laughs, "And you're getting colder."

"Okay... Oh! You work for the telephone company? And you just _think _it's your job to tap into people's conversations, which is cheating on that whole 'getting inside people's minds' thing. And which would be illegal, just so you know."

"No," he laughs again and takes a step closer. "Is that _ice _forming on the tip of your nose?"

"No. It's _not_."

"Are you sure?" he asks, stepping even closer. "Because being observant is part of my job, too."

"Yes. And it looks like Figaro isn't the only one that needs a lesson on personal space."

"Hmmm..." He's so close now that I can feel his breath on my face. "Am I making you warm, Bella?"

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me."

"Now you _are _getting a little warmer. Sort of. And are you sure you don't want to answer?"

I'm not sure who's squirming more, Figaro in my arms, or me... "I should get him inside... "

"I suppose I should let you. And get back to my boxes... "

_Or... _"Or you could let me be a hospitable neighbor and invite you in for a drink or something. To welcome you to our neighborhood. And thank you for rescuing my kitten... "

"I'd like that. Invite away."

"Would you like to-"

"Yes."

I smile and gesture toward my front door. He follows behind me as I start walking.

"I think I like it here," he says in a low voice.

I glance over my shoulder and find his eyes on my ass. "Good. I'm glad." We reach my porch steps and I open the door. "So, are you going to tell me what you do for a living? That requires you to be observant and get inside people's minds?

"Sure," he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "I'm a special agent with the FBI. A criminal profiler... "

_Fuck._

_Now _I'm warm.

**xx**

**Well, damn...**

**But... HE'S HERE! **

**Aaaaand... this baby finally has an amazing fucking banner, made by the even more amazing FrozenSoldier. I'll get it up on my profile soon, but check my tumblr if you don't want to wait. Or my fb. If you want. Chloe Masen, of course.**

**And, last but not least, THANK YOU shadowed by passion. For last night. You saved my ass, babe. Kisses. **

**For the rest of you... thanks for reading. AFTER you review... go read her stories. **

**In the words of Tigger... ta ta for now!**


	10. Chapter 10: Territory

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SM. This... is MY territory.**

**A/N: This is a bit different than what you're used to here, but what can I say? Edward changes everything just by existing. And if you don't understand _that_...**

**...**

**Chapter Nine: Territory**

My new sex on a stick neighbor is an FBI agent.

A criminal profiling FBI agent.

A criminal profiling FBI agent who's in my house.

Okay, God... I get it. I've been a bad girl...

But this isn't funny!

Seriously...

Not funny.

Yes, I invited him in...

And yes, I want him here, but...

Shit!

"Are you alright?"

"What?"

"I said are you alright? You seem suddenly... unsettled."

_Beautiful, observant, criminal profiling bastard... _

"No, I'm great. So... " I clear my throat and work to calm my nerves. "What can I get you to drink? Beer, wine, Coke, juice, water, something-"

"A beer would be great."

"Beer coming right up. Make yourself comfortable."

I gesture towards the couch and turn and head for the kitchen, but instead of sitting down, Edward follows behind me.

"This is a great house."

"Thanks. Yours is too."

"You've been inside?"

"A few times. The family that used to live there had kids. They liked me. Glass?"

He shakes his head and takes the bottle of Sam Adams from my outstretched hand, his long, beautiful fingers grazing mine subtly before pulling away.

"Thank you. And did you like them?"

I try to ignore the tremors that his simple touch sent coursing through my body and answer his question. "The kids? Of course. I love kids. And you're welcome."

I extend my bottle into the space between us. "To new neighbors."

I see something ghost across his features as he stares at me intently, and clinks his bottle against mine. "To new neighbors."

He takes a long pull from the bottle, his eyes never leaving mine.

His stunning eyes that change from green to gray and back again, and nearly knock me off of my feet.

Luckily for me, his voice is no less stunning, and pulls me from my induced-by-him trance. "You know, it's customary to actually take a drink after a toast."

_I'm drinking you in, doesn't that count? _

"What was that?" he asks as I bring my bottle to my lips.

I take a drink before I speak, because frankly, I'm not sure I _could _speak if I didn't. I _know _I didn't say that out loud! "What was what?"

He chuckles softly and his mouth forms into a sexy smirk. "Nothing, I guess. So, Bella... have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Perfect. Any good pizza to be found around here?"

"Pizza? I don't know if you want to do that. I saw the Illinois plate on your Tahoe, and you're wearing a Bears shirt... I'm going to take a guess that you're from Chicago... "

"That would be an accurate guess."

"Isn't Chicago kind of famous for its pizza?"

"Best pizza on earth."

"Yeah, well you're definitely not in Chicago now. I'm sure we don't have anything that would satisfy you here."

"Not the pizza, perhaps... but Seattle is looking pretty satisfying from where I'm standing. I think _you _more than make up for anything else that may disappoint me here."

"There's that pesky bullshit detector going off again... "

"I already told you, your bullshit detector is broken."

"You think so, do you?"

"I know so. I don't bullshit."

"Don't you?"

"No. Never."

"Then what do you call it?"

"Appreciation."

"If you say so."

"I do."

_If only..._ "So, Edward... "

"You're a little young to be so jaded, Bella. Do you have trust issues in general or is it just men?"

"Maybe it's just you."

His mouth twitches with amusement and he brings his beer to his lips. "Maybe. But you _want _to believe me. Believe that I'm for real. That I mean what I say." He pauses and takes another long pull from the bottle, his eyes again not leaving mine. "So you tell yourself not to. Which is a different trust issue entirely, and far more serious. You don't trust _yourself_."

_What the hell?_ "You don't know me."

"I want to."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. And you want to know me."

I shake my head with an exasperated sigh. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"I am."

"Right. Well, now that we've established that... What brings you to Seattle?"

"I believe we were talking about you."

"No, you were trying to get inside my head. Take a day off, FBI man. Nothing to investigate here. Now-"

"Do you always push people away when they get too close?"

_No... they go by themselves. _"Do you always say exactly what's on your mind?"

"Yes. Do you never?"

"I told you you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. When you were up a tree, no less. That's not never."

"True, you did. But there's a lot more going on in that head of yours that you don't say. Not out loud, anyway... regardless of where I happen to be."

"Yet you seem to hear it."

"I'm good at my job."

_I bet you're good at a lot of things... _"But I'm not a suspect." _Well... _

"I'm not so sure about that, Bella. But you're right, I _am_."

_What the... ? How does he do that?_

"Your eyes are very expressive. They give you away. If someone's paying attention. And I am."

"Maybe you just have a really big ego."

"Maybe. And a really big-"

"Please don't ruin it."

"Don't ruin what?"

"My hope that maybe you really might be different. Bragging about your _credentials _will ruin it."

"Well, Bella, my _credentials _speak for themselves. I was going to say appetite. A really big _appetite_."

"You were?"

"Yes, I was. But I'm honored that _your _mind is on my _credentials_. And that you spoke it. And that you admit to having hope about me, which I would never in a million years ruin."

"My mind is not on... nevermind. And stop smirking at me."

"You don't like my smirk? Or is it that there's something else you'd like me to be doing with my mouth instead?"

_Fuck yes... _"Drink your beer, FBI man. I'll get you the number for a pizza delivery place. Not many come out here to our quiet little neighborhood."

"I don't need the number. You can just order it. Sourdough crust, if they have it. Sausage and mushrooms on my half. And whatever you want on yours. But if you want anchovies, get your own pie, because that will just ruin the whole thing."

"First of all, I don't like anchovies. And second of all, who said I was going to eat pizza with you?"

"I believe I just did. With my mouth. That you want. Somewhere."

"You're very arrogant."

"I think you mean observant."

"No, I mean ARROGANT." _And it's sexy as hell..._

His crooked smile tells me that he's in my head again, and liking it. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

"You're a terrible liar, Bella. You better hope I never have to interrogate you in an official capacity. I can see right through you."

_I sure as hell hope not... _"And _I _can hear your stomach growling. And since I'm a sweet and compassionate woman, I'll order your pizza so you can eat a last meal before I kill you and add your body to my collection buried under my front porch. Sourdough, you said?"

"I did," he laughs, "And I believe you about the sweet part, _maybe_, but not the rest."

"No?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Then maybe you're not as good at your job as you think you are."

"Or maybe you have trouble saying what's really on your mind."

"Again with that? And what do you think is really on my mind now?"

"Well... you want _me_. But I don't believe under your front porch is _where_ you want me. You just don't like that I'm figuring you out. And you're afraid or too shy to tell me what you really want. Which, again, is me."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yes."

"You're wrong. Again."

"The blush I see on your cheeks tells me otherwise."

"I don't blush."

"You're lying. Again." He moves closer to me and raises the beer bottle in his hand, and gently sweeps the cool glass across my cheek. "And more than your beautiful eyes is giving you away this time."

"You're in my space again."

"You invited me. You just didn't say it out loud."

"I think you just hear things you want to hear, even if they aren't there."

"No, they're there. And it's okay, you know... that you want me. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I won't hold it against you. Not until I'm invited to, anyway."

"You're something else... "

"I am."

"And the one who's lying now. Something tells me that you don't wait for invitations to do anything."

"You mean you _hope _I don't."

"I'm ordering the pizza now. You seriously need something to occupy your arrogant mouth."

"You're right about that, Miss … ?"

"Swan."

"Aah... beautiful. Very fitting."

"Aah... _sarcasm_. Very typical. Forget what I said, you're not different."

"There's nothing typical about me, Bella. Different doesn't begin to describe me. And no sarcasm, it _is _very fitting."

"Whatever you say, Mr. … ?"

"Cullen. And don't tease, Miss Swan."

I roll my eyes and give him a gentle shove away from me, and down my beer, trying to clear the enticing possibilities of what kind of _orders _he might give from my brain. _Mercy..._

He chuckles and downs his own, his eyes dancing with wicked playfulness.

I shake my head in exasperation, and in an attempt to clear him from it. "Make yourself useful and open a couple more of these," I say, taking his empty bottle and tossing it in the trash. "And go sit down. In the other room."

"Yes, Miss Swan. Whatever you say, Miss Swan. For now."

He chuckles again at my narrowed eyes and grabs two more beers from the fridge. He finally leaves the kitchen, an arrogant smirk on his face, and after shamelessly watching him walk away, I find the number of the only pizza place I know of that offers a sourdough crust.

It takes a bit of pleading - and a bribe - to get them to agree to deliver it, but I think my dinner companion is worth one autographed copy of one my most beloved books.

Or at least he might have been, if he were still here. But all I find when I make my way to my living room is the two beers, and other than one very comfortable kitten, an _empty _couch.

What the hell?

What is it with people always sneaking out on me?

I'd really hate to have to teach my beautiful new neighbor a lesson in manners...

_You mean our beautiful new neighbor that's an FBI agent? _

Yeah, him.

_Calm your claws, Catbitch. Or dig them into his back, but keep your gloves OFF. He'll be back._

Maybe.

Or maybe I don't need to worry about how to keep him out of my head. He climbed out all on his own.

I sigh and grab my beer from the coffee table, and my pack of cigarettes from my bag and light one, and make my way to the flashing light of the answering machine. I delete a few unimportant messages and am listening to the adorable daughter of my publisher gush and squeal about my latest book just as Edward walks through the front door. He has a cigarette in one hand, and the pack and his wallet in the other, which he holds up in explanation for his disappearing act.

There's something about him walking into my house without so much as a knock, and the comfortable way he moves around.

He came back.

He wants to be here.

Wants to be near me.

Figure me out.

This man that I didn't know two hours ago.

This man that climbed a tree to get my kitten five minutes after we met.

This man that told me I was stunningly beautiful from high up that tree mere minutes later.

This man that is, without a doubt, truly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...

Which I'm pretty sure he was aware of, long before I said it...

Because he's arrogant and cocky...

Arrogant and cocky and _bold_...

And says what's on his mind without hesitation.

This man is sure of himself.

Confident.

And damn, it's fucking sexy.

A slight shiver runs up my spine as my eyes follow him to the coffee table, where he lays down his wallet and cigarettes and picks up his beer, before making his way to where I stand. I'm suddenly grateful for the long sleeves I'm wearing, that conceal the goosebumps that I know now cover every inch of my skin.

He leans closer to me and I give him a _That's my space _glare, but he only smiles a crooked smile at me, and flicks an about-to-fall ash from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray in front of me, before stepping back and leaning against the wall beside me.

A small laugh escapes me, in part from his _You want me _smirk, and because the little voice coming from the machine is now telling me that she _must _meet Figaro right away - which he seems to hear, because he comes running and is now meowing at our feet.

"You have a fan," Edward says, crouching down to scratch his furry little head, as Ana's message ends with a loud kiss.

I can't help but smile at the sight of Edward playing with my cat, who is now attacking his untied shoelaces as if they were snakes mercilessly taunting him. Edward laughs, and just as I'm thinking it's the most incredible sound I've ever heard, it evaporates as Jasper's voice comes through the machine.

"_I meant what I said, Bella. Always. Don't ever forget how much I love you. That will never change."_

It's the last message, and one that he must have left right after I pulled away from their house, and left _here_, rather than my cell that I would have answered. Because he wanted me to come home to something that would make me smile.

And as luck would have it, I did, but long before I heard his sweet words.

I came home to find the perfection that is Edward Cullen.

Who now stands at his full height, right in front of me.

And drops his cigarette in the ashtray.

And sets his beer next to it.

And places his now-empty hands on the table on either side of me, boxing me in.

And who looks... beautifully _pissed_.

"You wanted to talk about me, so I'll tell you something about myself now. And listen carefully, because this is important. I'm a _very _territorial man, Bella. I would _never _allow someone to trespass in mine, nor would I ever knowingly commit such an offense in another's."

He leans even closer, his warm breath flowing over my face as he continues, "So, I have a question for you. Answer it honestly. _Am _I trespassing in another man's territory?"

_Just when I thought he couldn't get any sexier... _

"The only territory you're trespassing in, Edward, is _mine_."

"If that's true... then who the hell was that?"

"A friend."

"A _friend_?"

"Yes. A very good friend, but just a _friend_."

"Well, Bella, I don't know what kind of _friendships _you have with men... but that didn't sound like the kind I'd approve of if I were going to stake a claim here."

"Stake a claim here?"

"That's what I said."

"That's a bit presumptive, don't you think?"

"I _say _what I think, I could care less if it's presumptive or not."

"And you _think _you might want to stake a claim _here_."

"I do. And I think you might want me to."

"And if I don't?"

"Tell me to leave."

_I don't want you to leave... _"That would be rude. I invited you here."

"You did."

"Then you imposed your... _pizza _on me."

"Which isn't here yet."

"But which I went to great lengths to ensure comes, if you can just be _calm _while you wait for it."

"Are you sure we're talking about _pizza_, Bella?"

"Yes, we _are_."

"Just checking."

"Anything else you feel the need to _check_? Or do you want to assume something else?"

"You're going to tell me about your friend."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you _are_."

"Okay, Mr. Territorial, why don't you give me back my personal space, and go stake your claim on my couch? I have to go get the bribe your pizza is costing me, then maybe we'll talk."

"I think you like me in your space," he breathes, not moving. "And there's no maybe about it."

"You _hope _I do. And-"

"You haven't told me otherwise."

"You'd probably just accuse me of lying if I did."

"I would."

"So there's no point, really."

"None at all."

I sigh and direct my eyes to his arms, and then back to his face, and wait patiently for him to move. But still he doesn't, and _his _eyes are burning a hole right through me. I challenge his penetrating stare with one of my own, and attempt another playful shove like in the kitchen, but this time he's a wall of stone, and doesn't move an inch. At least not an inch _away_...

His arms flex and he makes a noise low in his throat as he inches his body even closer, causing me to lose my balance as I try to take a step back. There's nowhere to go, and my hands grab onto him instinctively as my ass hits the table behind me.

"Is that my invitation, Bella?" he asks, pushing himself against me.

"No, Edward, it's _not_," I answer, far less convincingly than I intended.

"A misunderstanding, perhaps," he sighs, taking a small step back, but leaving his hands in place, still boxing me in.

I let mine fall from his arms after a moment - or force them, rather, because it's the last thing they wanted to do - and clear my throat again.

The only thing that moves this time is his mouth. "Something caught in your throat, Miss Swan?"

"No."

"That's good. Because if you want me to move, you'll have to actually say the words."

"I believe I already did."

"Did you? Funny, I didn't hear that."

"I think you only hear what you want to hear."

"And do what I want to do."

"Clearly."

"Don't blame me, Bella. I told you I was territorial. I can't help it."

"You're an only child, aren't you? You never had to share your toys or your parents' affection, am I right?"

"You are."

"And no one's really ever told you no, have they?"

"I've been told no."

"By a woman?"

"Yes."

"That _wasn't_ your mother?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Is there a point to your lucky-guess observations, Miss Swan?"

"Just trying to get inside your head, Mr. Cullen. It's only fair, don't you think, since _you've _been so _invasive_?"

"Point taken, Miss Swan." He releases me from his makeshift prison and looks at me with serious eyes. "Forgive me if I overstepped."

"There's nothing to forgive, Mr. Cullen. No harm done." _Except to my panties... _ "Besides," I smile sweetly and give him a slightly-less-than-gentle pat on the cheek, "you can't help it. Right? Isn't that what you said?"

"It is," he smirks, his eyes amused now.

"Very well, then. Now, please... I implore you... make yourself comfortable, and I'll be right back."

I laugh and shake my head as I head out of the living room and down the hall, because instead of sitting down and waiting for me, Edward follows right behind me.

"If you think the tour you've invited yourself on leads to my bedroom, it _doesn't_," I call over my shoulder.

"I'll get there eventually."

"Not tonight, you won't."

"That's okay. I'll wait. So, where are we going now?"

I open the door and turn on the light, revealing my private space. Edward steps inside with a smile, and quietly looks around as I watch him. Until now, Alice and Jasper are the only people that I've ever let in here. I kept the door locked when the abandoner was around, but he never showed any interest in being let in. He didn't care enough about what might be inside to waste a moment's thought on it. He didn't care enough about _me_.

I know that Edward being in here now is nothing more than his arrogant and pushy curiosity, but the way he's looking at everything as if it's valuable and important makes it even more so to me.

I don't know what one might call it, though I suppose it's a bit like an office or a den. Chaotic disorder rules the space, which Figaro now joins us in, his intent undoubtedly to wreak even more havoc than already appears to have occurred.

There are books everywhere... on my desk, the couch, the floor... ones I've written, others I've read. Rough sketches and illustrations are scattered about on every surface, drawn mostly by me, some by Alice. Awards adorn the walls, line shelves... the accomplishments I keep hidden. An antique Underwood typewriter sits atop a table in a place of prestige, a gift from Jasper during our freshman year in college, and something very special to me.

Edward looks at it now, and then at me, watching him as he scoops Figaro up just as he leaps for it from a nearby chair. "You're a very interesting woman, Bella Swan."

"Am I?" I ask honestly. "And why is that?"

"Definitely. And for many reasons."

I smile and shrug my shoulders and his eyes grow serious, but he doesn't say anything else, only looks at me. After a few moments of being held under his unwavering stare, I force myself to move, and get the copy of the book I came in here for. He continues to watch me as I open it on my desk and write a simple inscription inside the front cover and sign my name.

"All set," I say moving towards the door, book in hand.

"Is that the bribe for my pizza?"

"To get it delivered, yes."

"We're not that far out."

"Well, they don't deliver at all. It's a pretentious little place, but the only one I knew that offered what you wanted, so... "

"And you were willing to do that for me."

"You were willing to climb your tree to get my cat."

"I'm not sure you can compare the two."

"You're right. You risked your life."

"It's not like I ran into a burning building or anything. It was just a tree."

"You could have fallen and broken your neck."

"A possibility, I suppose, but I didn't."

"Luckily for you. You'd have trouble following me around if you had."

He laughs as he follows my pointed finger into the hallway and waits for me to close the door before setting Figaro on his feet. "That I would."

I nod and gesture down the hall. "After you."

"Certainly not," he says, shaking his head, "Ladies first. My mother did teach me _some _manners."

"I'm sure she did," I allow, leading the way once again, "though it remains to be seen whether or not you remember any of them."

"And which ones you might hope I _don't_."

"You _are _charming, aren't you, Mr. Cullen?

"You have no idea, Miss Swan."

"Oh, I think I have _some _idea."

"You'll have more by the time the pizza comes."

I set the book on the coffee table as Edward grabs our beers and the ashtray and finally takes a seat on my couch.

"Does that mean we're going to talk more about you now? So you can attempt to further charm me?" I ask, tossing my own pack of cigarettes on the table next to his.

"What that means... " he starts, grabbing me just as I'm about to sit down, and pulling me into his lap. "...is that my decision is made."

"What decision is that?" I ask breathlessly. "Or is it just the obvious one that you can't stay out of my space?"

"Your space is mine now, Bella. _That's_ what decision. And I want to claim it."

The power of his words is no match for his eyes, as they stare intently into my shocked ones.

Shock that falls away under the feel of his hands moving up my back, branding me with their searing heat.

Hands that now slide into my hair and possessively cup the back of my head and pull my mouth to his.

His mouth that stakes a far gentler-than-I-expect claim on mine.

A prelude.

A tease.

A torment.

What's to come, but not quite yet...

He starts to pull back and I want to stake a claim of my own, pulling him back to me frantically.

But he stills my desperation, his hands on my face. "I know."

"I want you to. I want you in my space. I... "

"I know you do. I'm here. And I _will_. _After _you tell me about your _friend_, who's now trespassing in _my_ territory."

"His name is Jasper... ... "

And maybe he was right...

Maybe...

I think...

Someone came along.

When I least expected it.

Someone who saw...

Something he wanted to claim...

Something he thought was worth fighting for...

Someone.

He's already fighting for it.

Her.

Fighting...

Here.

In my space.

For _me_.

...

**Well, he certainly doesn't waste any time, does he? Maybe Jasper_ was_ right.**

**And no, at the moment she's not thinking any more about the potential disaster this poses... there's plenty of time for that. Later.**

****And... I started a new something. It was clawing to get out. And that clawing was impossible to ignore... **

**It's called For Better or For Worse. Chapter One is up. And hot, if you ask me. Which you didn't, so...**


	11. Chapter 11: Glory

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. Glory is mine. And his.**

**A/N: Just read.**

**Chapter Ten: Glory**

"So, you think you can just come in here, trespass all over my personal space, stake your arrogant claim, play keep away when I want to stake my own, put me through a grand inquisition, eat your pizza and _leave_?"

"That's an accurate description of this evening's events, Bella. And yes, I think I can."

"Well, you can't."

"No?"

"No."

"And what part of that can't I do? Because I've already effectively accomplished all but one."

"Don't leave."

"Well, look at that, you _can _say what's on your mind, vague though it is."

"I told you I don't want you to leave, how is that vague?"

"You said don't leave, but you _didn't _say why you want me to stay."

"Nevermind. Adios, FBI man."

"I'll be back, you know. I don't just stake my claim on the land and then go looking for the next prospective property."

"Good for you."

"I happen to think it's good for both of us. That I take my time... settle in... surmise all of the things it needs... all of the things I can do to it...

"_Then_ I get to work. Get my hands dirty... work it long and hard... really put my back into it... work up a good sweat... "

"Do you hear that? That loud, annoying beeping? It's right here. What _is _that wretched sound? Oh yeah, it's my bullsh-"

His lips crush against mine, effectively cutting off my words, his fingers weaving tightly into my hair, pulling and twisting as he holds me immobile and thoroughly _works _my mouth.

And there's not an ounce of bullshit coming from his now as he stakes an anything-but-gentle claim with this kiss.

Holy fuck, this kiss...

I've never felt lips so soft...

So hard...

So possessive...

They don't just claim mine...

They claim _me_.

Every melting inch of me.

I can feel it in my toes...

The melting.

In my bones...

That I think are no longer solid...

Ho..ly...Fuuuuuck!

He's surveying the land...

His tongue...

His masterful fucking tongue that I want all over me...

In me...

And back in my mouth the second he takes it from me.

"As much as I would like to stay, one thing you were quite clear about is that I won't be getting into your bed tonight. And since I won't, I would at least like to get into my own, which isn't yet assembled. _And _since it won't assemble itself... "

My words come out in a breathless whoosh, "You need to go put your back into it."

"I do."

Damn. "Well, try not to hurt yourself."

"Don't worry about me, beautiful... I'll handle it. And be back to handle you, when I get the invitation."

"If."

"Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything. You must be imagining things, Mr. Cullen."

"You wish I was, Miss Swan."

"Goodnight, FBI man."

"Goodnight, Bella. I'll see you in your dreams."

**…**

**…**

Soft lips blow gently over my burning flesh, cooling the trail of fire his tongue sets over my skin.

It's better than I imagined.

His tongue.

Surveying.

Working.

Me.

My nipples are hardened peaks atop my breasts.

Swollen by his appreciation.

Aching for more.

Because he's left them already...

And they want him back.

They beg for his return.

I beg.

My mouth.

For his descent.

His mercy.

His hands grip my thighs.

His tongue continues to trail its fiery path over my stomach.

So close...

My pleas get louder.

He slows.

Torments.

Controls.

Makes me wait.

His thumbs draw a lazy design on my skin.

My legs that tremble in his grip.

His grip that tightens.

Opens me before him.

To make me wait.

Longer.

For his mouth...

That lingers over the bone at my hip.

Content.

Adoring.

While I squirm with shameless want.

Need.

For him to move on.

Move lower.

Sooth the clawing ache he's built...

Cool the fire.

The unbearable burn.

"Please, Edward... " I whimper, "Claim it."

I hear a deep chuckle, though it sounds distant to my ears.

The haze in my brain is dulling my senses.

Or it isn't.

Because I feel.

Oh fuck, do I feel...

His mouth...

I feel...

My dripping, throbbing flesh.

I hear...

His voice.

I bolt upright in bed, my body covered in a sheen of sweat, my hand between my legs.

Fuck...

_My _hand.

Not his.

Not his mouth.

It was just a dream.

But I heard him...

Didn't I?

I know I did.

And the soft knock I hear now on my slightly open window tells me I'm not wrong.

It _was _a dream.

It wasn't his mouth I felt...

But it _was _his voice I heard...

His deep, arrogant chuckle...

Because _he _heard me through my slightly open window.

Which he's standing outside of.

"Bella."

And he's not going to go away.

I climb from the bed and walk slowly to the window, straightening my damp-with-sweat cotton t-shirt and my damp-with-something-else cotton boy shorts on the way.

"Stalking is a crime, you know. One would think you'd know that... "

"It's not stalking when I'm in my own territory."

"Why are you outside my window?"

"Just checking on you. You left it open. I heard a noise. A few noises, actually."

"From inside your house?"

"No, I was already outside."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yes."

"Stalking me while I slept."

"No, having a smoke on my porch while I couldn't."

"And you heard a noise."

"I did."

"So, you were... _investigating_?"

"I was."

"And did you find anything?"

"I heard you call my name."

"No you didn't."

"I assure you, I _did_."

"You _wanted _to, so you're just saying you did."

"I told you I'd see you in your dreams, Bella."

"You _trespassed _on my dreams."

"You invited me. And I came. And you liked it."

"Well, I'm awake now, so go away."

"I'll leave your window, but only to go to your door so you can let me in."

"Now _you're _dreaming."

"While you _are _something like a dream, Bella, I assure you I'm awake. See you at the front door."

I shake my head at his arrogance as he walks away from my window, and at myself for finding it irresistible, as I all but run from my bedroom to let the cocky fucker in.

He smirks as I open the door, and steps inside, closing it behind him. His eyes travel deliberately over my damp, rumpled sleep attire, and down, lingering on my bare legs, before moving back up to my face. "You really are stunningly beautiful, Bella."

I eye his far-surpassing-mine stunning beauty, and possibly his own chosen sleep attire - gray sweats and plain white v-neck tee, topped with a gray hoodie and his bare feet slipped into a pair of unlaced Doc Martens for his porch smoke - and clear my throat. "Back at ya, stalker." _Seriously... _"But if you'll excuse me, stunningly beautiful or not, I'm sorely _underdressed_, and unpresentable for company, especially _stalker _company. And since you've managed to make your way in, get comfortable or whatever... I'll be right back."

His hand clamps around my wrist as I turn to walk away, and he pulls me to him, bringing my trapped hand to his nose. My trapped hand that I woke with between my legs...

He inhales deeply, moaning at the scent that greets him, and I watch in shock as he pulls my oh so recently soaked-with-me fingers one at a time into his mouth. _Fucking hell..._

"_Now_ you can go," he says, dropping my hand, once all traces of me have been tantalizingly sucked from my fingers, "if you think you must, but let it be known that you look, and _taste_, perfectly presentable to me."

I bite my lip, at a loss for a response, and walk away with a thumping heart. I can feel his eyes on me, and glance over my shoulder to look, and find them on my ass where I expected. And him, for a first, not moving to follow me.

I throw on a pair of clean - and most importantly, _dry _- underwear, and a pair of sweats, and pull a sweatshirt over my head, ignoring the want-him-inspired urge to shower. I'm not sleeping with him hours after we met, no matter how much my body is telling me I should. I've never invited a man into my bed, or crawled into one of theirs, on the first night, and _claimed _or not, I'm not going to start now.

My brazen behavior on not so long ago nights doesn't count... I didn't fuck any of them, and whatever pleasure I may have secured for myself before I killed them, was merely something I felt I deserved. And it's not like they were unwilling...

But this isn't that. This is something else, and dangerous circumstances aside, I want this man here. And I want him here for more than a night. If only I can figure out a way to keep him out of my head... where, unlike the rest of me, I don't want him anywhere near, tonight or any other night.

Barring the horrifying possibilities of him _from _said head, I quickly brush my teeth, wash my face - and hands, though he did a thoroughly masterful job on one with his mouth - and pull my wild hair into a loose ponytail and head back out to my waiting guest.

I'm not surprised when I don't find him on my couch, though I'm a little nervous about where his inquisitive nature has taken him. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find him in the kitchen, with a slice of cold pizza in one hand and the other fiddling with the buttons of my coffee maker.

"Pizza and coffee?" I ask, leaning against the counter.

He eyes my covered-up appearance and frowns. "The coffee is for morning. I set it for eight, since I have a meeting at nine. And the pizza... it's the strangest thing... I wasn't at all hungry until I got in here and you gave me a taste of something. Now I'm starved."

"I don't recall _giving _you a taste of anything."

"Tomatoes, tomatos... "

"And what does your nine o'clock meeting have to do with _my _coffee maker?"

"_Your_ coffee maker has graciously offered to indulge me _before_ my meeting."

"Has it?"

"It has."

"Hearing voices again, are you?"

He laughs and takes a step towards me. "It's hard to hear anything over drum beat of sexual tension in the air. And your pounding heart."

I roll my eyes and watch him take a bite of his pizza. He even eats sexy...

But I'm sure as hell not telling him that. "Interesting... because all I hear is that infernal beeping again."

"Liar," he says, holding the pizza up to my mouth.

I shake my head and he touches the saucy slice to my lips, purposely getting it on me. "Oops."

I narrow my eyes at him as he pushes himself against me, pinning me to the counter, but he only smiles a devilish smile before his tongue slips out to lick the sauce from my lips.

"How's your pizza?" I ask, my heart pounding loudly in my own ears. He probably _does_ hear it...

"Better suddenly. But still nowhere as good as _you_."

Really starting to regret not showering..."I'm really glad I don't hear beeping this time."

"I'm really glad you're starting to believe the things I say."

"My belief may be a little hope-inspired this time."

"Your hope is clear, but it's nice to hear you admit it. And, as I told you earlier, I would never in a million years ruin any that you have about me. There are many ways a man can tend to his prized land. I promise you, I'll be in no way neglectful of mine."

"Prized?"

"I know special when I see it, Bella. That's why I didn't waste time claiming it."

"And is that often? That you see and claim _special_?"

"No. This is only the second time... and actually, I was wrong about the first."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Bella. It was a good lesson for me. Taught me how to see inside of people better. Hear things they don't say. Don't _want _to say. Things they try to hide. I'm a better man for it. And better at my job."

How did I know he was going to say that? And why can I not care about what that could mean for me?

_Because you're fucked no matter what, and you might as well enjoy yourself before the ax falls._

And because when he drops his slice of pizza back into the open box and his hands lift me onto the counter and cup around my face, I don't give a damn about anything but the feel of him. And that I want to feel more.

"Why does my job make you so nervous, Bella?"

"It doesn't," I say, willing my trapped-by-his eyes not to betray me.

"I think it does."

"I think you just want it to make me nervous. Maybe it makes you feel powerful and intimidating. You probably get off on that."

"Or maybe I underestimated you and you really do have bodies under your porch."

"Maybe," I smile sweetly.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Well, unless their lives were ended by your vicious kitten-accomplice here, and you were merely trying to protect him out of motherly love, I'm still not buying it."

I lean forward, having been allowed the space to do so, and follow his downward gaze to see Figaro once again attacking his untied laces with a vengeance.

"You're accusing my innocent cat of murder because you don't know how to tie your shoes? Really, Agent Cullen, you should be ashamed of yourself. And you will quite deserve it if he forgets the laces and moves on to your flesh."

"Don't project your fantasies on to your innocent cat, Bella. The only one here that wants my flesh is _you_. Now who should be ashamed?"

"Still you. Your arrogance knows no bounds. And neither do your horrendous manners. Your _space _issues aside, you invited yourself for dinner - _and _coffee - mere hours after you moved into _my _territory, which you trespassed all over - for the zillionth time, I might add - by creeping outside of my bedroom window in the middle of the night, and then upon being caught - or demanded to be noticed - forced your way inside-"

"There's no damage to your front door. No forced entry. Evidence proves that I was _let _in, _after _mere hours earlier being _invited _in, _after _being ogled while up a tree... Should I continue?"

"You should let me go back to sleep, which you so rudely woke me from with your stalking."

"You mean let you get back to dreaming about me. That's understandable, I suppose, but unnecessary. I'm right here, Bella. And while I heard with my own ears how incredible I was in your dream, I promise you I'm even better in the flesh."

"And unfortunately for you, I'm going to take you at your word this time. Goodnight, Edward."

"Of all times for you to believe me... Ah, well... "

He wrangles free of Figaro, and lifts me down from the counter, grabbing my hand in one of his and his unfinished slice of pizza in the other. He turns to face me when we reach the front door, and pulls me into a dizzying kiss. "Goodnight, Bella. Sweet dreams."

I stand breathless in the doorway as he walks down my porch steps. He looks up at me when he reaches the bottom, and his genuine, no-trace-of-cocky smile melts my insides.

"Lock the door, beautiful. See you at eight."

**…**

**…**

**7:55 am**

Why do I feel like I'm fifteen years old waiting for my first kiss?

No...

That kiss was dreadful. As were the next few after it.

Until I was sixteen and discovered the lips of Jasper Whitlock.

There was nothing dreadful about that...

And I never thought anything could top it...

Until yesterday.

And last night...

Well, this morning, technically...

Something topped it.

Topped it and drop-kicked it into the stratosphere...

Someone...

Edward Cullen.

Who'll be here in...

"Knock, knock."

The front door is open, because Figaro is romping around outside, but instead of walking through it, he stands at the threshold waiting to be invited in.

And, _fuck me..._

Edward Cullen in jeans was sex on a stick.

Edward Cullen in sweats was whipped cream on top of said stick.

But Agent Edward Cullen in a suit...

He should just cuff me now. Cuff me and...

"Good morning, beautiful. Are you okay?"

"Okay? Have you seen you?"

"Yes," he chuckles, "The mirror I found, it was the coffee maker that continues to hide from me."

"Ahhh." So that's why. And here I thought...

"Which I'm grateful for. And even if I'd found it, I'd still rather be _here_, and have my coffee with you."

Maybe... "So, are you hungry? I've got some bacon frying, but I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs... "

"You're making me breakfast?"

"I can be sweet sometimes."

"I already knew that."

I ignore the devilish implication in his tone and drain the bacon on a plate. "So... eggs?"

He turns me around as soon as I've pulled the last piece from the pan and kisses me deeply, his clean, fresh scent washing over me, as his mouth threatens to take my legs from under me.

"Scrambled," he murmurs against my lips, as his hands cup possessively over my ass, "If that's okay."

"Perfect. Your eggs will match my brain."

"You're getting much better at speaking your mind, Miss Swan."

"You're getting better at remembering your manners, Mr. Cullen. Or, you were, anyway, before you invaded my personal space again."

"You told me you wanted me in your space. Last night. You even said it out loud. Did you forget?"

"Perhaps."

"Then it's a good thing you have me to remember what you want."

He gives me a firm squeeze and then lets go, sighing deeply as he opens the correct-on-the-first-try cabinet door and pulls out two coffee mugs. We both move to the refrigerator at once, and he opens the door and reaches in, pulling out the carton of eggs and butter and putting them in my hands, before grabbing the milk and my coffee creamer.

He sets the milk on the counter next to where I've set the eggs, and proceeds to pour two cups of coffee, even adding the cream to mine before sliding it towards me.

"How did you know about that?" I ask him, more than a little shocked.

"I saw it last night. I pay attention to things, Bella. Aren't you figuring that out about me yet?"

I take a sip of my coffee and smile. "Yeah, I am. And you got it just right, thank you."

"I'm glad. You're welcome."

"No jabs?"

"About?"

"My frou frou cream?"

"Not at all. You're entitled to drink your coffee any way you like. Did someone try to tell you otherwise?"

"Maybe once." Or hundreds of times... though he drank his with his disgusting Vitamin D sludge and a pound of sugar... pussy.

_Dead_ pussy.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here anymore. And don't ever worry about that repeating itself... while I intend to _be _both, I would never propose to tell you what you should do. Or like."

"Honorable, yet _dishonorable_, intentions?"

"Tomatoes, tomatos... "

**…**

**…**

Two car doors slam out front just as Edward and I are heading through the living room. He's leaving a few minutes early, because he frustratingly still hasn't been given the name of who he's supposed to be meeting with this morning, and wants to make a call.

My eyes go wide as we reach the door and Alice and Jasper are coming up the porch steps. Wide, as Alice's are as hers fall on my early morning guest. Jasper's are more what you'd call _narrow_, and he's the first to speak, as he leans down to kiss my not-on-the-side-of-Edward cheek. "Good morning, sweetheart. Who's this?"

Edward's grip on my hand tightens, as he undoubtedly recognizes the distinctly southern voice from my machine.

"Good morning, dears," I say with a chuckle, as he now releases my nearly-crushed hand and tucks his arm around my waist instead. "What's up?"

Alice giggles at the tension, kisses a dagger-shooting Jasper on the cheek, then me, and flutters into the house. "I used Jasper's car last night to go on a junk food run and must have left the lights on... His battery is dead, so he has to take mine to work. He has a meeting with some supposedly really cocky FBI asshole, Edward something-or-other, in a few minutes, and I didn't want to be stuck at home all day, so I told him to drop me off here on his way. That's okay, right?"

I cover my mouth, but it doesn't do a thing to conceal my laughter as I look at Edward and see his jaw twitch.

"What's so funny?" Alice asks, "And Bella, stop being rude and introduce us to your friend."

I ignore Alice for a moment and smile at Edward, who is glaring suspiciously at me. And rightfully so, I suppose... "Did I leave out that Jasper was a detective?"

"You did," he answers, without a trace of amusement in his tone.

"Hmmm... must have slipped my mind... Well, I suppose an introduction might help matters now... Alice, Jasper... this is my new neighbor, and... uh... friend... or whatever, _Agent _Edward Cullen. And Edward... these are my oldest and dearest friends, _Detective _Jasper Whitlock, and his wife - whose mouth has no filter - Alice Brandon-Whitlock. And um... this is just a hunch... but I think perhaps you boys have a meeting together in a few minutes."

Alice's mouth is dropped open so wide that you could fit a baseball into it, but she covers it before I can find one, and Edward and Jasper are immobile, too busy staring each other down to bother with the formalities of a handshake. I'm still trying to control my laughter, because even though it probably shouldn't be, this awkward situation is damn funny to me. But I know Edward doesn't see the humor in it...

And Jasper seems to have _other_ things on his mind. "New neighbor since when?"

"Since yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Yep. Came home from your place and there he was."

"And he's in _your_ house this early in the morning?"

"Yes, _detective_, he _is_."

"Why _is_ he?"

"What was it you told me before I left last night? That someday something could happen... when I least expected it... That was it, right? Something like that?"

His eyes move from the _Maybe you were right_ glimmer of mine to settle on Edward's possessive grip around my waist.

And that's where they stay.

I shake my head in exasperation and look up at Edward, whose unwavering gaze is still on him, and is now unmistakably cocky.

Men and their egos...

I look next to Alice, who seems to be recovering from her bad first impression, and who I know would like a chance to rectify it. She clears her throat softly, and reaches her hand out to Edward. "It's very nice to meet you, Edward. I apologize for calling you an asshole before... it was childish and undeserved... please forgive me, and forget I ever said it... I'm willing to beg."

He gives her a wink and shakes her outstretched hand. "No need to beg, Alice. Think nothing of it. We really cocky FBI assholes know how the local department _boys_ feel about us having to come in and solve their cases for them. And we don't take offense."

She opens her mouth to respond, but closes it without saying anything, and snatches her hand away from him, cocking her brow at _me_. I give her a _But look at him _shrug and the corners of her mouth turn up just enough to tell me that she gets it, loud and clear. And that boys will be boys, and that we should let them be, so that we can be girls...

"Don't you two _men_ have somewhere to be?" she asks.

"That we do," Edward smiles, "As I understand it, your husband needs my help catching a killer."

So, that _is_ why he's here...

"I don't _need_ your help, _Agent_ Cullen," Jasper spits, "It's being shoved down my throat. But if you're as good as word says you are, and you _think_ you are, then let's get to work."

Edward gives me a squeeze and lets go, gesturing to the door. "After you, _Detective_."

"Cocky or not, at least you know the order of things around here. _All_ things."

"Jasper Allen Whitlock!" Alice and I yell in unisoned shock.

He turns around somewhat guiltily, knowing if his mother were here, she'd already be running for a switch.

But Edward, whose jaw twitches briefly, doesn't waste time on his irritation. "I don't place much value on how things start. Any cocky fool can take an early lead. All that matters to me is who's got what it takes to claim the prize at the finish. And the glory."

The glory...

Fuck me, the glory...

And cocky Agent Edward Cullen with his shamelessly cocky, glory-claiming mouth...

That I _will_ have all over me...

Soon.

Very soon.

Before the ax falls.

And his glory comes from...

...

**Yeah, don't even say it, Bella...**

**And don't assume the 'nature' of things is forever changed by Edward's arrival. Catwoman was already catnapping... I don't see any harm in letting her purr for a bit. **


	12. Chapter 12: Pandoras Box

**Twilight still belongs to SM. And there's not a chance in hell she'd claim this, which is MINE. And I happen to love it.**

**That being said... it is what it is, made up words and all. And it's right down there...**

**...**

**...**

**Chapter Eleven: Pandora's Box**

"He's GORGEOUS!"

"I know, believe me."

"And you _really_ like him. And not just because he's gorgeous. It's so much more than that... You're even blushing!"

"No I'm not."

I give her a look that says _You're seeing things_, and shake a cigarette from my pack and put it between my lips. I gesture the pack towards her before I toss it down, and she makes a face, but grabs one anyway.

"You know I quit forever ago... and don't you dare tell Jasper, but damn, I need one after that kiss I saw. And oh yes, _Scarlet_, you _are_. And I love it."

I light her cigarette, and then my own, taking a deep drag and letting it out with a laugh, "Tell Jasper? _Please_... it's fun keeping secrets from detective boy." _And vital to my freedom. And life... We execute here, right? _"And _why _do you love it, Alice?"

"Detective _man_, thank you. Which you know, and which should really creep me out, but doesn't. By the way, have I ever thanked you for him?"

"Yes, sweetie, you have. Many, many, _many_ times."

"Okay. Good." She smiles wistfully, cementing for the millionth time that I did the right thing by giving him up for her. "And I _love_ it, because I want you to be happy. And you blushing means he's someone special. I haven't seen you blush since we were teenagers and you told me about the first time Jasper licked your-"

She stops, and laughs at my furiously shaking head and _Please don't say it _eyes, and then takes a long drag of her cigarette. She lets it out with a contented sigh, and a wicked smile. "Seriously, Bella... THANK YOU."

"You're welcome," I laugh, "I'm glad he's taking good care of my girl. That's what I wanted."

"He definitely is. And I want someone to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself, Alice."

"I know. But you can't do _everything_... but by the looks of that kiss, I think _he _can. So tell me, Bella... what else has Agent Cullen done with that cocky mouth of his?"

My fingers tingle at the memory...

And then something else does...

Everything...

And damn, it feels good to have hope.

**…**

**…**

"Do I get to meet another one of your _friends_ today?"

After returning to the solid ground of my garage floor - after jumping ten feet in the air - I turn around to face him. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Why? Doing something you shouldn't be?"

I slide Pandora's box back under the bench with the back of my shoe and try to return my breathing to normal. "_No_. Because _you _creep around like a crazy stalker."

"Creep? Crazy? And _again_ with stalker? That's a bit much, Bella, don't you think? I merely saw an open door and came to check on you. Call it _concern_."

"The _side _door, which you can't see from _your_ side, which means you were creeping around _my _property. Again. Because you're a crazy, creepy, _cocky_ stalker. And just because you're too beautiful for your own good," _and mine... _"and just because it's open, _doesn't_ mean you shouldn't knock before entering." _Ever... _ "You know... since it's mine and not yours." _My secrets... that I don't want you to know about..._

He walks towards me, his voice low but commanding, "We'll see what's _mine _and what's yours... and _what_ I knock... and _what_ I enter... and everything else you said, but right now, _I_ want to know whose truck is in your driveway. And you're going to tell me."

"Am I?" I laugh, as he pulls me against him, "Mr. JEALOUS, I mean... _Concerned_?"

"Yes," he breathes across my mouth, "You _are_, regardless of what you call me."

"Well, _it_... and the space you're violating now, again, is _mine_. Any other questions?"

"Just one." He runs his tongue over my lips and down my chin, tracing the line of my jaw until he reaches my ear. "When are you going to let me _violate_ the rest of you?"

_Holy hell... _

If he doesn't stop sucking on my neck, it's going to be _now_...

I open my mouth to speak, though I have no idea what would have come out of it, and he puts one long, wet-dream-inspiring finger to my lips, his hot breath in my ear again. "Don't give me the answer you _think _you should give me. Give me the answer you _feel_."

_But... _

_I can't..._

_Oh, fuck it. _"Now."

"That's good, Bella... " He runs his nose down my neck, inhaling my scent, his lips whispering over my flushed skin, "...because I can't wait another second to have you."

And in less than that, I'm lifted up and slammed onto the solid wood bench behind me. His mouth is again feasting on my neck and his hands are moving down my legs.

Mine are in his hair, ignoring the protest my brain is telling me to shout, as his reach my ankles and then pull my shoes from my feet, dropping them to the cement floor.

And then they're back on me, his hands...

Unbuttoning my blouse, before he impatiently rips it open, sending the buttons flying.

And my heart racing.

He moves from my devoured neck and looks at me...

My ruined blouse...

My heaving breasts in their red satin prison...

My goose-pimpled flesh...

And then into my eyes...

And I know that whatever he wants is his.

I won't say no.

I won't stop him...

And I don't, as he pulls my hands from his hair and yanks my blouse down my arms, leaving it at my wrists, confining me in a makeshift restraint as he moves to my jeans.

They're unbuttoned, unzipped, and yanked from me in one frenzied, but masterful movement, and then his mouth is at my breasts.

He trails his tongue along the top edge of my bra, down one side and up the other, his hands around my hips.

I watch him in anticipation, silently pleading for him to release me. My nipples are hard and ache painfully, and I want his mouth to soothe them.

But he doesn't remove it, instead flicking his tongue over the hardened peak of one through the satin.

_Fuck..._

The surprising sensation of it makes me arch my back and brace myself on the wood beneath me, my breasts reaching out to him in a plea for mercy. But one more flick of his tongue to the yet-attended-to bud is all he gives me.

And words that make my racing heart still... "You have my word that I will leave no part of you undiscovered, or unworshiped, in time... but I've thought of nothing else but your long legs wrapped around my neck since I got a taste of you last night... and I'm going to have what _I _want. And I'm going to have it _now_."

The response from my own mouth is unintelligible as he yanks me hard to the end of the bench.

And perhaps inhuman as he grips the sides of my panties in his long fingers and rips them to tatters to get to what he wants.

And, dear God, what he wants is _me_...

And he's taking it.

With not a second wasted.

And that dream I had last night...

I should be whipped for its insult to this man's mouth.

This man that _is _special.

And if I didn't believe that he thought _I _was special...

I believe it now.

From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I believe it.

And my throbbing...

Dripping wet...

Thoroughly discovered...

Masterfully worshiped...

My... "My God!"

_It_ believes it, too.

I think he's just fallen in love with it.

And because I'm not that selfless girl anymore...

The one that gave something away...

The one that pushed it away...

I beg him to love it more as my legs clench around his neck like a vice, pulling his beautifully stubbled face greedily against me.

_I _want it.

I want to keep it for as long as he'll let me.

As long as he's willing to stay...

I don't know how my selfish need doesn't suffocate him, but the deep, appreciative moan that reverberates from his mouth on my ravaged flesh is like a _Thank you_, and he only buries himself deeper within it.

Buries himself...

Buries me...

Under layer upon layer upon layer of mind-numbing ecstasy.

As he takes what he wants.

And what I never want him to stop wanting.

Never want him to stop taking.

Never want him to stop claiming...

Ever.

I am claimed.

Owned.

By the man that could end me.

Literally.

And does...

Figuratively.

As I shatter all over his beautiful stubbled face.

With my trembling legs wrapped around his neck.

Like he wanted.

And me...

Because I invited him into my space.

_Only _him.

Only...

Not?

Because now someone else is here.

Here...

In my space.

A car door...

Slamming...

Outside.

Shit!

Footsteps on pavement...

Only a few feet away from the open garage door.

And I'm... fuck!

And he's... smirking proudly, his face glistening with his accomplishment.

_Unbelievable__... seriously... but really?_

He chuckles as I try to fix my blouse, because it only has two buttons left on it, and though I know he's arrogant, his current state of calm surprises me. _Really?_

"Excuse me, Mr. _Territorial_, but someone is about to walk in here and see your _land _in all its natural glory. Is that _really _okay with you?"

"Of course not. I don't share. AT ALL."

He walks towards the open door before I can say another word, or ask for my jeans from where he threw them a few feet away.

A few feet too far, because I _know _I don't have any legs...

Because he took those, too...

But I have no choice but to test their use...

Test what he left behind...

And slide down from the bench...

And land hard on my ass on the cold cement floor with a loud screech...

When they do as I expected and buckle beneath me.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

"Hello, Alice," I hear Edward say...

Which makes sense, since she had my car and I knew she'd be back...

Like he is...

Strolling over to tend to his ravaged land.

And _laugh _at her. "Are you okay?" he asks me, making very little effort to control his amusement, which turns into full-on cracking up as Alice comes running behind him.

Alice, who he apparently doesn't care what _she _sees...

"Bella, are you- Oh!"

She gasps as she takes in my appearance...

Blouse with two buttons, covering _nothing._

Nothing... like I_'_m wearing, except for socks.

Bare legs... splayed open...

And now...

She joins him in his cruel, and _unfunny _song. _Thanks, Alice... and after all I've done for you..._

I turn my glare from her to Edward, and smack him on the arm as he lifts me from the freezing floor, but he only laughs harder and plops me back down on the bench.

Alice comes up with one hand covering her mouth - not that it does anything to muffle the sound - and my jeans in the other, putting them in a smirking Edward's outstretched hand.

"Are there panties somewhere?" she asks, barely getting the words out before she spots the pieces of ripped satin on the floor.

And because she's laughing so hard...

My mouth drops open as she dares to pick them up and grins wickedly at Edward. "I _really _like you. You're a keeper."

"So does Bella," he snickers, "And trust me, I'm not going anywhere."

Cocky bastard... "I hate you both. And Alice, put _down _my underwear! And for God's sake, give me my pants!" I scream, making them both burst out in laughter again.

"Pocket," Edward says, gesturing to her hand, and then down to his pants.

"Well, first... " she giggles, "...you have a little something on your face... " She dabs at his mouth and chin with the pieces of fabric - while he grins, and I stare in shock - before stuffing them into his pants pocket, while he slides my jeans over my feet and up my legs.

I glare at him again, but he's undeterred from his wicked teasing... "I took her legs away from her, the poor thing, so I'll lift her and you slide them up, okay?"

"Got it!" Alice nods enthusiastically.

"I can do it myself!" I yell, seriously fed up with both of them. "Get. Away. From. ME. Both of you!"

Edward ignores me, grasping my waist and lifting me in the air as I kick and smack at him, and Alice does her agreed-upon part and pulls them up the rest of the way and over me...

Really.

Slowly.

"Doesn't she have a great ass?" she asks him.

And I'm going to get her for this...

"Well, I haven't seen it from _every_ angle - _yet_, but definitely. She's absolute perfection."

I might be just a little less mad at him for _that _remark, but seriously... I could kill him. And I really think I might, when he throws me over his shoulder and heads towards the door. "Alice, will you grab her shoes?"

"Sure thing!" She grabs them and catches up to us, pulling the door closed behind her. "And have you eaten, Edward? Well... _food_? Because the three of us should totally have lunch together so you and I can get to know each other."

No we shouldn't...

"No... Haven't had any _food _since the delicious breakfast Bella made me this morning. But she's quite the hostess, and gave me something even _more _delicious to tide me over until lunch... which I'd be happy to join you ladies for."

"Excuse me? Does anyone care what _Bella_ wants?" I shout, as we enter the house.

"Yes, beautiful," he smiles, dropping me gently on the couch and grabbing my cigarettes from the coffee table.

He lights two, slipping one between my lips, and taking a long drag of his own, before continuing in a whoosh of smoke, as he kicks back beside me, "I assure you, _all_ of _your _wants will be addressed and granted, now that I've received my invitation to do so.

"But right now, Alice has offered me a golden opportunity to get inside your head, and _that_... like so recently _you_, is something I don't want to wait another second for.

"So, what's for lunch? I'm _starving_."

Shit.

Can't we go back to the garage?

Because even though the evidence _is _there...

In there he was only hungry for _me_, and _not _what's in my head.

A Pandora's box of another sort...

And if he's as good at his job as I'm afraid he is...

Cracking open the 'encyclopedia of me' that is Alice...

Well...

I might as well just put my Pandora's box of bloody gloves in his hands.

And my hope with it.

Like my panties in his pocket...

That he ripped to shreds.

To get to what he wanted.

Me.


	13. Chapter 13: Uncovered

**SM still owns Twilight. The voices are still mine.**

**Chapter Twelve: Uncovered**

How does a mother leave her child?

In the middle of the night?

Or at all?

I've asked myself this question a thousand times.

A thousand different ways.

Ten thousand.

More.

How does she do it?

To leave a man...

A husband, even...

I guess I could fathom.

Maybe.

If he was abusive.

Hurtful.

Cruel.

But my father wasn't any of those things to my mother.

My mother who left us.

Her husband.

And her child.

Would she have left me if there was no him?

Would she have left him if there was no me?

I think I know the answer to that.

I had to wait a long time for it...

But I think I got it.

It's _me_.

I'm leavable.

Inspiring, even.

I make them _want _to move.

Go...

And now I've opened the door.

Again.

Let someone else in...

Which, in turn...

Is just an invitation to go.

The coming is a warning.

Like the U-Haul still parked in Edward's driveway.

It warned me he was here.

The U-Haul I stare at through my office window.

I came in to get a book.

Because I couldn't sleep.

And Figaro followed me.

And, after investigating the space he's rarely let into, he climbed up the chair and jumped right into the window.

Probably hoping it was open.

Because he wants out.

Or something.

An option.

To go.

Even though he stays.

I give him his freedom.

And it must be enough for him.

Because he never goes very far.

And he always comes back.

For me.

And him, I hope.

Because he's happy here.

And next door.

Where he invited himself last night.

Followed Edward right through his front door.

As he carried a box.

And found one for himself inside.

An empty one that he jumped right into.

Like the window.

Where he sits looking next door.

Like I do.

At the U-Haul trailer.

That warned me of his arrival.

Will it warn me when he's leaving?

Or will I be the one that's gone?

This time.

First.

Before.

Against my will.

And my heart.

Forced to leave my child...

Sort of.

Figaro.

My cute little cat.

That I love.

And would never leave.

For more than a few minutes.

Would never abandon.

Ever.

And he's only a cat.

How does a mother leave her child?

**...**

**…**

"Going somewhere?"

"Fuck! You scared the shit out of me! Again! What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Or you could answer mine."

"Where are you going, Bella?"

"You're off duty, Agent Cullen. You should relax. And sleep, for God's sake."

"An interesting suggestion, coming from the woman sneaking to her car at two o'clock in the morning."

"Sneaking? I'm not sneaking."

"Not now that you've been caught."

"You're the only one that's been _caught_. What are you doing outside of my house at two o'clock in the morning? _Again_, I might add."

"I asked you where you were going, Bella, and I want an answer."

His words aren't playful.

Aren't arrogant or cocky.

Not in the way they usually are.

And aren't merely inquisitive.

This isn't on-duty Agent Cullen before me.

I think it's just Edward.

Edward the _man_.

Who's claimed a territory that he thinks is being threatened.

Or something...

And I can't answer him honestly.

But I wish I could.

Because the look in his eyes hurts me.

Uncovers something.

In him.

Something I've never seen.

And that I want to take it away.

"Nowhere, really. I just couldn't sleep. And I was just going to go for a drive... pick up a carton of ice cream."

"Ice cream? At two o'clock in the morning?"

"Yeah. I-"

"And _where _would you get ice cream at this time?"

He doesn't believe me.

Not that he should...

But he doesn't.

And he doesn't know why he shouldn't...

But the reasons he doesn't are things I'm not guilty of.

And wouldn't be...

Not now.

But still...

"Well, there aren't many choices, of course. But there's a grocery store that's open 24 hours. And drug stores." And I still want to know what he's doing... "So, now that I've answered your question, it's your turn. Why are you out here?"

"Do you often go out for ice cream in the middle of the night?"

"Sometimes. Now, back to you... "

"And do you always look like that when you do it?"

"Look like what?"

"Look like a woman that wants to be _noticed_."

Is that how I look? Because that's not...

Well...

Shit.

It is and it isn't, I suppose.

But right now it only _is_.

To him.

And no matter what he's thinking, that's not good.

For me.

And maybe not for him.

Definitely not for him.

Because that look in his eyes...

The one behind his suspicions.

His questions...

Questions that he's tired of waiting for answers for...

"I have ice cream in my freezer, Bella. It's Neapolitan. And it's yours. If that's good enough for you."

_Hurts_.

More than something else I feel.

The something else that brought me out here.

And that will have to wait.

And that I hope will just go away.

The thing that I thought had.

But came back.

The thing...

The clawing...

That I don't want to claim me.

Anymore.

Because something else has.

Something that I do...

Want.

"Just what I would have chosen, Edward."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is."

He looks to my car.

Then to the keys in my hand.

Then back to my face.

And I don't know what he's thinking now...

But he takes the keys from my hand.

Replaces them with his own.

Hand...

His grip firm.

Strong.

Decisive.

"Then let's go get it."

I nod and let him pull me across the grass.

From my driveway to his.

Further.

Up his porch steps.

Through his unlocked door.

Straight to his kitchen.

To the freezer door.

To the Neapolitan ice cream that sits nearly alone inside.

Coffee is the only other occupant.

And now my eyes flit around the room...

Along the countertops...

Looking...

But finding nothing.

They're empty.

Clear.

He must not have found it yet.

His coffee maker.

And part of me hopes he doesn't.

Anytime soon.

So he needs me.

Mine.

But the other part...

Parts...

Of me...

_Every_ other part of me...

Wants him to...

But come for mine anyway.

For me.

A want I don't want to want.

But do.

_So much..._

He's staring at me when I look back up at him.

At his breathtakingly beautiful face.

His face that now conceals his thoughts.

His thoughts that are God knows what...

While he holds the ice cream in his hand.

And me in his other.

Mine.

That his grip is still firm on.

And that he pulls again, leading me back the way we came.

But stopping.

Once.

Before a stack of boxes that his pack of cigarettes lie on top of.

I pick them up, not needing to be told, and then he moves again.

To the front door.

And through it.

Dragging me behind him.

Firmly but gently.

Purposefully.

Back down his porch steps...

Back down the driveway...

Back across the grass...

Up my porch steps...

To my front door that he drops my hand to open with my key.

And waits for me to step through.

Before he follows me in and kicks it shut with his foot.

Grabs me and slams me against.

Not hard...

Well...

Not _too _hard.

Not to hurt...

But to claim.

Take back.

I think.

I feel.

As his body slams against mine.

And his lips hover.

His breath.

Over mine.

Whisper...

Hard.

Not soft.

"The next time you can't sleep... and need something... in the middle of the fucking night... you come to _me_. Tell _me_."

And I can't tell him what I needed...

I can't ever tell him.

And he could never give it to me.

What I think he knows wasn't ice cream...

But I nod.

Agree.

Because I want him to think I would.

And that he could.

Give me what I needed.

And that he can.

And that he can trust me.

Even though he shouldn't.

I want him to.

I want _him_.

And want him to know.

What I thought he already did.

But what his eyes and his questions and his suspicions made me doubt.

And him.

I want him.

Him, whose mouth I pull to mine.

Attack.

Assault.

With my eyes open.

Like his.

That are still searching for truth.

Truth I want him to find.

See.

Feel.

As my fingers pull his hair.

Pull him.

Closer.

And my body...

Pinned to the door by his.

But still crushes against him.

Needing him to know.

To believe.

His.

That crushes back.

So hard I think he'll push me right through the wood.

And then not.

Not at all.

Gone...

His weight.

His pressure.

His mouth.

His hair from my needy grip.

They've all left me.

Alone with his stare.

And his voice.

An order...

"Go change."

"What?"

My question is breathless.

Stupid.

Confused.

"Go _change_. Your clothes. Take them off. Put on something else. Something comfortable. Something that only I would pay attention to you in. Something you _should _be wearing at two o'clock in the fucking morning. And do it now. And wash that mask off of your face. I want to see you bare when you come back to me."

The clawing answers him before I can.

Wants _me _to.

Answer him.

For it.

Not for leaving.

Like the others.

But for being here.

For wanting to be.

And because _I _want him to be.

The clawing doesn't.

Doesn't like him.

Wants me to tell him...

Instead of what I do.

"Okay, Edward."

His eyes follow me as I push away from the door...

Walk slowly past him...

And down the hall.

I can feel them.

Boring into me.

Still relentless as I turn on the light and step into the bathroom.

Sense them coming nearer as I wash the makeup from my face.

The _mask_...

That he wants to see beneath.

See me without.

And I know it's not about the makeup...

It's about what it represents.

To him.

And why I chose to put it on at two o'clock in the morning to go get ice cream.

That he knows wasn't why.

Wasn't what I wanted.

Needed.

Though he doesn't know what was.

He only thinks he does.

Or thought he did.

And when I come out, I find what I expected.

What I felt.

Him.

Near.

In the hallway.

Against the wall.

Arms crossed.

Eyes...

Studying me.

Piercing.

Through me.

I start to speak...

To ask him what he needs...

But he silences me with a gesture of his head.

Propelling me towards my bedroom.

Another order...

Or a repeat of the first...

Without a word.

And I follow...

Obey.

Because I'm powerless against him.

And even though I should be terrified...

Of him.

His power.

His need for more...

Over me...

I'm not.

Because as long as he wields it...

Keeps me under it...

At its mercy...

Nothing else can.

That thing...

That thing that so recently made me feel so full of life...

That thing...

That thing is _wrong_.

Selfish.

Evil.

That thing wants to destroy him.

Wants me to.

And myself.

I know that now...

See it for what it is.

_Hate _it.

With everything I feel.

And everything I _want _to feel.

And I won't let it take any more from me...

Any more than it already has.

I _won't_.

And so I will...

Surrender control...

To _him_.

For as long as he wants it.

And me.

The one he stopped from being _her_.

And being claimed by _it_.

**…**

**…**

He's not in the hall when I come out of my bedroom.

The me he wanted.

Demanded.

The plain me.

The bare me.

The one that no one would notice.

That no one would pay attention to.

No one but him.

Whose eyes travel over me...

My bare feet.

My sweatpants-covered legs.

My Seahawks t-shirt.

Which he scowls at.

Before smiling at me.

Sort of.

And beckoning me with a finger.

Another order.

Which I obey.

Because I want to.

Want to be near him again.

Closer.

And when I reach where he sits on my couch, he issues another.

Order.

Silent but direct.

He grabs my hand and pulls me down to my knees in front of him.

Makes my heart pound when he chuckles.

Harder than it already was...

"Seahawks fan, are you?"

"Not really... " _Why does that matter?_

"So, you don't really care about this, then?" he asks, and grips the bottom edge.

"No. It's just a shirt."

"Good," he replies, and lifts it over my head and off of me, throwing it to the floor behind him. "Because I don't like it."

"I can-" I start, but am silenced again when he shakes his head and pulls his sweatshirt off in one swift movement.

He's wearing a t-shirt underneath it, a _Bears _t-shirt, like the sweatshirt he just removed and is now dressing me in, without so much as a second's glance at my exposed-by-him flesh before he does.

_Ouch_.

I know I don't have a lot to look at in the breasts department, but I've never experienced a man's complete disinterest before. And his at this moment is in complete contrast to previous moments that I hoped would lead to eventual adoration.

And apparently my hurt and disappointment at that not being now shows clearly on my face - or he's doing that thing he does - because he kisses my nose and pulls me into his lap like the pouting child I've become.

"I made you a promise, and I'll keep it, but right now your ice cream is melting."

Ice cream that was sitting in a bowl on the table and that he now holds up in front of me.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "There's nothing else about me that you find offensive? Nothing else you'd like to change before I take a bite? My hair, perhaps?"

"I didn't like your shirt, Bella... a piece of clothing, nothing more. And I rectified that. And nothing about _you _could ever be offensive to me... other than your inability, or perhaps more accurately, your _unwillingness _to be honest and truthful with me. And if I waited until _that _was rectified - which I assure you it _will _be - your ice cream would be not only melted, but undoubtedly spoiled. So, eat it. _Unless_, of course, you never really wanted any in the first place?"

I take the bowl from him, tearing my eyes from the accusatory raise of his perfect brow, and gather a small spoonful.

"Strawberry. Interesting first choice," he quips, as I bring the first bite to my mouth.

"It's ice cream," I sigh, "And I could have chosen any of the three, or all of them at once, and it wouldn't have meant anything. Not everything means something, Edward. And not everything has something else hiding beneath it or behind it."

"No, Bella... not everything. But _you _do... and I'm going uncover it, I promise you that. I only hope... for me... _and _for you... that I'm not sorry when I do."

His words send a shiver up my spine.

His promise.

A shiver that he sees.

Feels.

And that I pray he thinks is from the ice cream...

But that I don't think he does.

As I look into his eyes...

His eyes that bore into mine...

Beyond...

_Me too, Edward. __Me too._

**…**

**…**

There's light coming from inside of my garage when I pull into my driveway.

Light that I know I didn't leave on.

Never turned on.

Not since...

Edward.

The day he walked in and...

The day before the night that he made a promise...

A promise to uncover...

Me.

Edward is in my garage.

I know it's him.

Know it in the pit of my stomach.

Know it in the depths of my brain.

Know it in my heart...

That's shredding...

As the claws rip through it.

Punishing me.

For denying it...

What it wanted...

Him.

What I chose.

Over it.

I chose him.

And it is...

Him.

In my garage.

I know it in my bones.

That no longer feel connected.

Anywhere.

That won't let me move.

Won't let me run.

To him or away.

Like there's even a choice...

One that wouldn't destroy me.

There's not.

**_Yes there is. Destroy _him_._**

You're talking to me now?

_**You're talking to yourself. We're not separate.** _

Yes we are.

**_You only wish we were._**

We _are_. And I don't want you here anymore.

**_Yes you do. I'm the only one that can get you out of this mess you've made._**

You made this mess for me.

**_You brought me here. Because you needed me. And you _still _need me. And you know what you have to do. So, stop wasting time._**

I'm not going to do anything.

**_It's him or you._**

I want it to be him _and _me. Not or.

**_You're so stupid! He's only here _because _of you! And you liked it. Got cocky... and decided you wanted to play with him. But he was better than you. Smarter. And now your little game is over. So, end it! Win, before he does._**

No. I'm not hurting him...

**_You think he won't hurt you? You think he'll hesitate for a second? He won't! _**

He _is_. He heard the car. He knows I'm out here. He...

**_Doesn't give a shit about you! Just like they didn't! And is just waiting for you to go to him. Serve yourself up. Just like you did the day you invited him into your house, and then let him stay when he told you what he was. Wake up, you pathetic bitch! He's been on to you all along! IT'S WHY HE'S HERE. Why he moved in right next door. He _played _you. He doesn't want you! You were never going to get to keep him! He just wanted you to trust him. And you handed it over the minute he smiled at you. Because you're weak. And stupid. And so desperate to be loved that you fell right into his plan. Threw yourself in... but it's not too late. I can get you out. He won't expect it. Won't see it coming. Doesn't believe you'll fight for yourself. Doesn't think you're strong enough. But you are, as long as I'm here. As long as you listen to me. So, _listen_. And go make me proud. Prove him wrong!_**

I close my eyes.

Try to will it away.

The screaming.

The evil.

That I've already let destroy me.

My chances at a normal, happy life.

And that wants me to destroy him.

Him...

Who's waiting to do the same to me just a few feet away.

In my personal space.

My personal hell.

Where the proof of it lies.

But doesn't.

Because he's not waiting anymore...

The door is no longer closed.

To my garage.

Or to me.

They're both wide open.

And there he stands.

Edward.

Right in the middle.

With the proof in his hands.


	14. Chapter 14: In the Light of Day

**Twilight belongs to SM. The light belongs to God, I suppose... I'm just playing with what they created.**

**Chapter Thirteen: In the Light of Day**

I bolt upright in bed, my body covered in a sheen of sweat.

Just like the last time I dreamt of Edward.

And not at all.

Light is pouring in through the window.

The light of a new day...

Instead of the cruel dark of an old night.

Last night.

The one in my dream.

My heart is racing...

Not unlike the last time I dreamt of him...

But not at all for the same reason.

The last time I dreamt of Edward he was in my space.

My most private.

Me.

Between my legs.

That I opened for him.

Let him claim.

Wanted him to.

And this time...

He was in that space again.

In my dream.

My private space.

Mine...

But different.

Between.

But uninvited.

Unwanted.

And I'll never forget the look on his face...

In my dream.

The one that told me he knew.

He'd uncovered.

My secret.

My hell.

My destruction.

Me.

His eyes told me he had claimed me.

My life.

My future.

My past.

That were the same.

_Over_.

And that lay in his hands.

He held my life in his hands.

In my dream.

The life I threw away.

Because I didn't...

Throw away the evidence of what it had become.

What I had become.

And him...

Edward...

That I wouldn't get to have.

Wouldn't get to keep.

He would leave.

Like them.

But different.

He'd take me with him.

When he went.

Take my hope.

Before he left.

Before he left it.

And me.

To die.

But Edward never left.

Last night.

Not when I could see him go.

Not when I was awake.

Before the dream.

And I wasn't in my bed.

Before.

I wasn't alone.

He was here.

With me.

Holding me.

Trying to get inside.

And I was afraid.

Didn't want to let him in.

But didn't want to push him out.

Didn't want him to go.

Held on when he tried.

Kept him...

For as long as I could.

As long as he let me.

_Because _he let me.

And because he wanted to stay.

Even though I wouldn't let him in.

Further than he was.

I fell asleep in his arms.

I think.

The ones that didn't let go.

But that aren't here now.

Aren't around me now.

In my bed.

That I climb from still wearing his sweatshirt.

That is.

With my heart on the sleeve of it.

And my fear...

That I won't find him here.

Fear that chokes me when I don't...

Not in the hall.

Or the empty bathroom with its open door.

Not on my couch.

Where I last saw him.

Last felt him.

Or in my kitchen...

Where I find evidence that he _was_...

Here.

In the light of day.

Because coffee was made.

And left.

Alone.

Like me.

Where is he?

And where is Figaro?

Who should be at my feet by now.

Asking for his breakfast.

Breakfast that he's _already_ been given.

By Edward.

But that he left.

Where are they?

The two men in my life?

The two that I want to be here.

Want to find.

The two that stay.

But that maybe didn't.

I head back into the living room...

With the empty couch.

And the open door.

That I didn't even notice when I went through it.

To get there.

To my kitchen where coffee sits.

And Figaro's forgotten breakfast.

Evidence that he's still here.

Maybe.

That he stayed.

I didn't notice the open door...

Didn't see it.

Because I'm careless.

Not thinking right.

And maybe because I didn't want to.

See evidence of him gone.

Them.

And I step through it now.

The open door.

Follow his path.

Theirs.

In my bare feet.

And a chill runs up my spine.

Because the earth is cold beneath them.

And because I know where he is.

Edward.

I can feel it.

Before I get to it.

Another open door.

The door to my garage.

Edward is in my garage.

And I wish I were asleep now.

Still asleep.

I wish it was still night.

Still dark.

That this was still the dream.

Or a different one.

Any one.

This moment that isn't.

But that I hope has a different ending.

_Please..._

He turns when I walk in the open door.

My heart in my throat.

Because there's a metal box behind him.

Open.

"Good morning, beautiful."

But not _that _box.

"You're still here."

"Did you want me not to be?"

"No... I wanted... I... didn't... wasn't... I... "

"You wanted what? You didn't what? You weren't what? _What_, Bella?"

My words won't come.

To answer him.

To tell the truth.

The truth of my want.

And of my fear.

Of what he might have found.

And what Figaro did.

Because they're together.

He's here, too.

Right at Edward's feet.

With his discovery.

The truth that could take them both away from me.

Because I brought it here.

Left it here.

To be found.

_No, Figaro, please..._

_Leave it alone._

_Don't show him._

_I don't want him to see._

"What are you doing?"

My question is to Edward.

But my eyes are on my cat.

At his feet.

"I was looking for something."

His answer is to me.

As he scoops up my cat.

With one hand.

"And I found it."

Because he holds a hammer in his other.

And he walks to me.

Away from my secret.

And to all of the rest.

The ones I hold inside.

As he holds my cat.

Who wants to go back to what he found.

Bites and claws to get to it.

But Edward doesn't let him go.

And pulls the door closed behind us as I follow him through it.

Locking my secrets inside.

Behind.

And Figaro out.

Before he puts him down.

To find something else to fill his curiosity.

And his own.

He tosses the hammer to the ground.

And grabs my hand.

And my chin.

"What's wrong, Bella? Tell me."

And I wish I could...

Tell him.

That there was a way he could hear me...

And not.

But I can't.

"Nothing... "

He steps closer.

Studies my face.

In his hand.

Concern instead of suspicion in his eyes.

Gentle instead of hard in his touch.

"Then why are you pale? And sweating? And shaking?"

The truth starts to come out before I realize it.

Before I can stop it...

"I had a dream.. I... it was... "

But then I pull it back.

Replace it with a lie.

"I just don't feel very well."

That isn't really.

Isn't at all.

And another.

That could never be.

"And I thought you left... and... I... I didn't... it felt... bad... worse than... "

I finally manage to stop the words from pouring out of my mouth.

Stop their damage from spreading.

Before it's too late.

Or after.

Because Edward...

He already heard.

Already saw.

Already sees...

And he takes a deep breath.

Lets it out.

Where it flows across my face.

Telling me I said too much.

Revealed too much.

And I'm scared.

And I try...

"I shouldn't have... It's... I... I'm sorry... "

"What are you sorry for, Bella?"

_Everything..._

"Are you sorry you opened the door? Or sorry that I came through it? Or is your sorrow because I'm _still _here?"

"No... "

"No _what_, Bella? Which one?"

"I'm sorry that you don't _know_ me." _The one I was before. Before that asshole took everything from me. Before I let him. Before he left me with it. The nothing. Before I found something to replace it with. Before it found me..._

"I'm trying to."

I nod.

Because I know he is.

Know he wants to.

And know that I can't let him.

But that I can't find the words to tell him he can't.

Don't want to.

The words to tell him to go.

To tell him he can't stay.

Can't want to.

I can't do it again.

Give someone up.

Give them away.

I can't.

Not him.

This man that showed up out of nowhere...

In my space.

This man that _I _brought here.

That doesn't yet know that I did.

Doesn't know yet that he came for me.

And found something he wasn't looking for.

In the same place...

As the something he was.

He found me.

Different and the same.

_Wants _me.

And that means something to me.

_He _means something to me.

The me inside that I thought had died.

Had found a different kind of something to live for.

Something that I let take over.

Me.

The me that _isn't _that.

Doesn't have to be.

Isn't when I'm with him.

Isn't at all.

That's not at all what I feel.

With him.

Not what I want to be.

Not what I ache for.

And not at all what I want to live for.

I want to live for me.

The me that wants.

The me that feels.

And wants to feel more.

Because I feel more than I ever thought I would again.

More than I ever thought I could.

More every minute.

For this man who showed up out of nowhere.

For me.

This man whose eyes haven't left my face.

Whose hand hasn't released it.

Or my hand.

Me.

All of me.

Parts he doesn't know he holds.

Or maybe he does.

Now.

When he lets go...

Of me.

Picks up the hammer from the ground.

And a metal stake I now see lying beside it.

And pounds it into the earth.

In my space.

That he just told me he's not leaving.

Without a word.

But says them anyway...

As he takes my hand again...

And leads me into my house.

Waits for Figaro to follow.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bella. And I promise you won't be sorry for that. I know now that I never will."

And closes the door.

With the life I want...

Inside.

**xx**

**Yep... it was just a dream. You didn't really think I'd end it that quickly, did you? Edward only just arrived...**

**As for ending this chapter so quickly... I have my reasons for why I did. You trust me, don't you? **


	15. Chapter 15: Progress

**My Bella's a little twisted up inside. Like SM's was. But different. Like this is. Welcome new readers that get a kick out of that. And Joy Masen, Bnjwl Masen, Ttharman Masen, and theonlykyla - because there can only be one - here's the ASAP you asked for. And some Fedward for blueyedcherry - 3rd in line behind Bella. And me. The rest of you will have to fight it out. Bella's fight is below.**

**Chapter Fourteen: Progress**

I told Edward I wasn't feeling very well.

And as it turned out, pale, sweating, and shaking was more than just my panic and fear rearing their desperate heads.

I really wasn't well.

Pale became paler.

Sweating became chills.

And shaking took on many different forms...

Violent shivers.

Even more violent heaves into the toilet.

And whimpering pleas through trembling lips for Edward to leave me.

I really wanted him to now.

Then.

Begged him to as he wiped my fevered brow with a cool cloth.

Tried to push him away from me when he held my hair from my face as I bent over the cold porcelain.

I wanted him to go.

Not see me like this.

Weak.

Helpless.

And vulnerable.

But he didn't go.

Wouldn't leave me.

And still hasn't.

And won't.

Even though I look like death.

And plead weakly for it to take me.

And him to just leave me to it...

Edward just won't go.

**…**

**…**

"Jasper?"

"Hey, darlin."

"What are you doing here?"

"Working."

_What? _"W-working?" I croak.

"Well, not right this second, but that's only because your new _I walk on water _friend is in your kitchen charming the pants off of his new groupie, formerly known as MY WIFE."

"Edward?" I ask, trying to sit up in my makeshift bed on my couch.

"Right here, beautiful," he answers, suddenly appearing out of nowhere before me and pulling me up before Jasper can. "I'm glad to see your eyes open."

"She was talking to _me_," Jasper scowls from his intercepted almost-to-me position behind Edward.

"Saying _my _name," Edward returns cockily without so much as a glance back at him, "_Again_."

"Again?" I ask, confused, and with a still-croaky voice.

Edward holds a glass in front of me, putting the tip of the straw to my lips, and whispering "Small sips" as Alice answers my question. "You were mumbling in your fevered sleep. Nothing made any sense, but you said Edward's name a few times. That part was clear."

"I did?" I ask weakly, ignoring Jasper's rolling eyes, and wondering what else I may have said - though grateful that whatever it was didn't make sense to them. Hopefully _none _of them...

"Yes, you did," Edward answers with a smug smile, before smoothing my hair away from my face and putting his lips to my forehead. "Your fever seems to be down. You feel much cooler... but I'll let you tell me, and the thermometer. How do you feel?"

"A little better...I guess?"

"You're not sure?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean... You can go."

"Bella, you've been trying to kick me out for three days, with no success. You really should save your energy."

_Three days? _

I open my mouth to ask exactly that, and he slips the thermometer in before I can get the simple question out.

"100.4," he says after a moment. "Much better."

And now I can finally ask my question. "Three days?" And another. "And much better than what?"

"Well, today is the third, but you're still trying to get rid of me, so I counted it, even though it's only mid-afternoon. And much better than this morning, which was 102. And yesterday, when you hovered in the 103 range. And the day before, which-"

"The day before? But I just got sick yesterday... "

"No, Bella, it was the day before. You were out of it most of yesterday, so I'm not surprised that you're confused about the time."

"If I was so out of it that I don't even remember - which I _don't _- HOW did you take my temperature? And WHERE?"

Alice laughs at my question, Jasper crosses his arms, and Edward smirks. "Where do you _think _I took it?"

"There better be an ear thermometer sitting around here somewhere."

"I'd have gotten one if it had been necessary... but it wasn't. And don't worry, beautiful, the only space I entered was your _mouth_. I simply touched the tip to your lips and told you to open. You were very compliant."

"You're not funny."

"I'm not trying to be."

_I'm pretty sure I'd remember THAT..._

"So, three days... and you've been here the whole time?"

"Yes, and yes, other than the few minutes it took me to run next door for a change of clothes each morning. I took the liberty of showering _here_."

_Edward-sex-on-a-stick-Cullen was naked in my house... _

_Naked and... wet._

_And I was practically unconscious?_

_Fuck you, flu! Fuck you with Satan's staff!_

Edward's deep chuckle tells me he's in my head again. And even if it hadn't, his low whisper in my ear leaves no doubt. "Don't worry... your eyes will be indulged soon enough. And anything else you think has been neglected. After you've regained your strength. You couldn't handle it now."

"The only thing I can't handle right now is your arrogance. It's exhausting. And the knowledge that I haven't showered for two days is embarrassing. And you are way too close to me. So, thank you for playing doctor, but go away."

"If you're exhausted, then you should lie back down. And no, you haven't had a shower, but you did have a bath yesterday, and I'd be happy to help you with that again today if you're feeling dirty but too exhausted to manage alone."

I look down at myself - and my clothes - and try to remember what I was wearing the last time I dressed myself...

And it _wasn't _what I'm wearing now.

"You undressed me and put me in the bathtub? While I was unconscious?"

"You weren't unconscious."

"And was I _compliant_?" I ask, fixing him with a glare.

"You were, actually. Until I put you into the cool water. You didn't like that very much. It broke my heart, to be honest, how much you didn't like it... but you were too hot. I needed to cool you down."

There's nothing cocky or playful in his expression now. Or his words.

Or what he did.

He stayed here with me when I was sick.

He took care of me.

Because I couldn't take care of myself.

And because he _cares_.

He cares about me.

A lot.

More than anyone has for a very long time.

I see it.

More than anyone has since...

Jasper.

Who sees it, too.

And who sighs.

At him and at me and at his wife.

Who is smiling so big...

At us.

"Thank you," I say softly.

To Edward.

For so much...

For what he did.

And what he said.

And what he didn't have to.

Because no matter what I lose...

I'll never forget what I had.

What he gave me.

Today.

**…**

**…**

Edward made me soup.

Real, homemade, from scratch, chicken soup.

It's what he was doing in my kitchen when I woke up.

No one's ever done that for me before.

Jasper was a wonderful boyfriend...

And took care of me when I ever got sick...

But his soup always came from a box.

Or a restaurant.

And Edward could have done that...

Been sweet in an easy way.

But he didn't.

And he didn't leave me.

Not even to go get what he needed.

He called Alice.

Who he knows loves me.

Told her I was sick.

Two days after I got.

And gave her his shopping list.

And then he called Jasper.

Who he was supposed to be working with today.

And told him the same.

That I was sick.

And that he couldn't.

Wouldn't leave me alone.

And they came.

And they're still out there.

With my soup.

And Edward.

While I'm in the shower.

Feeling feverish.

Again.

Or still...

But for a different reason.

Another.

Because the soap that lathers my body lathered his.

Edward's.

It was still damp from him.

In my shower.

That he was naked and wet in.

Yesterday and today.

And that I was.

Yesterday.

In his hands.

In a cool bath.

That he made for me.

Like the soup.

That both make me smile.

Like my bottle of shampoo.

With its top closed.

Closed by Edward.

After he used it.

On me.

And himself.

I know because I always leave it open.

The one thing I do.

And always curse myself for because sometimes water gets inside.

He closed it.

So none could get in.

The one bottle of shampoo in my shower.

Because one's enough.

For me.

And for him.

Who didn't bring his own.

That I know is only one, too.

Because he's different than him.

The abandoner.

In every way.

He doesn't need more than I have.

Or than I am.

He just wants more.

Of me.

Wants me to give it.

Share it.

With him.

Knows I want to, but doesn't know why I won't.

Or can't.

Or am afraid to.

Why I'm keeping him waiting.

Outside.

Like now...

When I feel a burst of cool because he opens the bathroom door.

"Bella, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? You've been in here a long time."

Am I sure?

I am about him.

"Yeah... I'm sure. But thanks for checking on me."

"Thanks? And _checking_, not stalking? That's progress."

"I pay attention to things, too, Edward."

"Good. And you're welcome. Need any help?"

If Alice and Jasper weren't in my house, I'd say yes.

But they are.

"No, I have it under control. Besides... I think your help would exhaust me. And you told me to save my energy. I'm being compliant."

"You pick the worst moments to listen to me sometimes... "

"There are better ones to come... I hope."

"I hear you, Bella. And there are."

"I meant for you to. I even said it out loud."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, get out. I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay. I'll go... this time. But I won't be far."

"Good. I like you near."

"_Stellar_ progress."

It's the least I could do...

After everything he did.

And everything he's still here doing...

I wait for the click of the door before I turn the water off.

Glance once more at the bar of soap.

And the bottle of shampoo.

That I remembered to close.

This time.

Because I'm learning.

Trying.

Making progress.

That I know made him smile even though I couldn't see his face.

Like the smile on mine now as I step out and see his toothbrush next to mine.

Green.

Not yellow.

Wet.

Not dry.

And _here_.

**…**

**...**

The U-Haul trailer isn't parked in Edward's driveway anymore.

It left.

Like my flu.

In the light of day.

Sort of.

It was almost dark.

Twilight...

But I could see it.

When it went.

That's the important thing.

And that it left empty.

And that I wasn't.

Left empty.

I wasn't left at all.

I was taken.

And held.

My hand in Edward's as I sat beside him in his Tahoe.

The trailer dragged behind us en route to its final resting place.

Final until the next person says goodbye.

To something.

Or someone.

Or somewhere.

Like Edward did...

When he left Chicago.

Said goodbye to it.

And hello to here.

And to me.

Hello and so much more...

Like "You're coming with me".

He said that before we left with it.

Because a panic came over me when it was hitched and ready to go.

A panic I tried to hide but that he saw.

Because Edward sees everything.

Almost...

But _that _he definitely did.

Saw and tried to ease.

"_You'll never watch me leave, Bella."_

He said that, too.

And I laughed.

Not the funny kind of laugh...

And he knew it wasn't.

And I knew that laugh opened another door.

Or a window.

Into me.

I didn't mean for it to.

But it did.

_I _did.

For him.

And I know he knew I did.

And that he couldn't wait to jump through it.

But he did...

Wait.

For a little while.

Until we'd dropped off the U-Haul.

And picked up some dinner for Figaro.

And for us.

But now that we're settled...

Sort of...

And our bellies are full...

And his boxes aren't...

Except the one that Figaro plays in...

And the one between us...

The last box...

His, not mine...

The one he pulls his coffee maker out of...

The coffee maker that brings the panic back...

The panic that he sees...

He's jumping in.

"I don't knock on your door every morning for the coffee, Bella."

"Don't you?"

"No. I knock on your door because I want in."

"For coffee... "

"For _you_."

"Me... "

"Yes, you. I want inside, Bella. And you can let me in, or I can force my way, but I _will _get there."

I grab the coffee maker from his hands and start for his kitchen. "Keep it in your pants, Mr. Arrogant, you'll get there if and when _I _say you will. Now... where do you want this?"

I feel him behind me...

Close...

Right on my heels...

Stalking...

Sending shivers up my spine...

But I don't stop until I reach the counter.

That he pins me against.

His chest hard against my back.

His voice low in my ear...

"I'll get _everywhere_, Bella. There's no if about it, and you know it. And you want it."

"Is here okay?" I ask, my voice shaky from his words. And _him_...

"I'll _take _you anywhere you want me to... but the first time won't be here. Or like this... " He grinds himself against me, his fingertips brushing my hair from my neck, his breath hot on it, " ...because the first time I take you, you're going to be looking at my face. And know who's with you. And who's making you scream."

_Fuck... _

_Seriously..._

_Just... fuck._

"I w-was... I _meant _the coffee maker. Is _it _okay. Here. On the counter."

"I know what you meant, Bella. And I don't care where you put it. I won't be using it very often."

"And me?" I ask, unable not to.

He spins me around, his hands as quick as the anger I see on his face. "_Use_ you? Is that what you think I'm doing? For what purpose would I use you, Bella? My amusement?"

"I didn't mean... "

"What? You didn't mean _what_?"

"I don't know."

"You know. You know exactly. You just refuse to speak what's on your mind. Refuse to let yourself."

"That's not true. I-"

"You give me snippets. You tease... but you always pull it back. Or cover it up and try to hide it. Well, let me explain something to you. That shit's not going to work with me. I don't like secrets. Secrets are like lies. Truths not told. And I won't accept that from you. My job isn't my life, Bella. At the end of the day, I want to leave it. And I expect the person I want to leave it for to let me. And be happy that I am. And trust why I am. And want to accept it. And give it freely in return, not play games."

"I'm not... You said you'd force your way in... if-"

"Yes, I did, and I will if I have to. But I don't want to have to. I won't trust you if I have to. You want me to trust you, believe me you do. You want to spend your nights with the _man_, not the agent. I promise you that."

_I do. More than you could imagine..._

"Tell me something, Bella. Give me a truth. One piece I don't have to dig to uncover."

One piece.

That's what he's asking for.

But how do I do that?

How do I give him one that connects to all?

The pieces are like a puzzle...

They all fit together.

Every one it its place next to another.

They only fit one way.

And all connect to form the whole.

A picture.

Good or bad...

A picture of me.

That's what he wants.

One piece that will lead to more.

Until it's full.

Clear.

Complete.

How do I give him that?

How do I give him anything?

Without him wanting more.

The rest.

The all.

That would lead to the end.

Of us.

And of me.

Who he's staring at waiting for the first piece.

"I... uh... "

"Is it so hard?"

I wish it wasn't.

But it is.

I wish I could just be happy...

Without being afraid.

Be compliant.

To him.

Who I know doesn't want to hurt me.

But who doesn't know that I've given him no choice.

He doesn't know.

But I do.

And that's why it's so hard.

Because the longer I keep him out.

He'll stay in.

I wish he understood that.

Somehow.

Wish he didn't misread it.

And the stupid things I say.

Like what I said.

I don't know why I did...

The thing that made him mad.

And that should have.

And that probably hurt him.

Something I never want to do.

But know I will.

Because I gave myself no choice.

Before he was even here.

Because someone left me.

Two someones.

But maybe I _can_ give him something.

One piece.

The first one.

It might be enough.

I hope.

And I do...

"My mother left us when I was seven years old. Me and my dad. In the middle of the night. While we were sleeping. We woke up to find her gone. And she never came back. And I'm sorry, Edward. For whatever that's done to me."

_And the next._


	16. Chapter 16: Movements

**There are things I want to say, but am going to bite my tongue instead. After I address one thing: a few of you were shocked by the 'piece' she chose to give him at the end of the last chapter... but think about where her more recent abandonment led her. And where divulging it could lead him. That's where her head was. And why she made the choice that she did. It makes sense to me. And her. Like this does. Even if _only_.**

**...**

**Chapter Fifteen: Movements**

I don't think Edward expected the first piece I gave him to be such a big one.

But he took it.

Wrapped his head around it.

And his arms around me.

Arms that I still lie wrapped in on my couch.

While he turns the pages of one of my books.

It didn't take him long to connect the next piece.

That the stories I write to chase away bad things that go bump in the night were because they _didn't_ in mine.

Didn't make a sound when they moved.

At least not when they left...

And that, for me, the silence was louder.

The quiet.

And the dark.

And I needed to find a way to fill them.

And myself.

With dreamt up moments I never had but imagined.

Dreams I shared to soothe others.

Fantasies of a creative mind and an abandoned heart.

Adventures with furry little friends on magical roads that led to even more magical places.

Places with lemon drop suns and cotton candy clouds and rain made of tears that came from laughing so hard they spilled out and washed sadness away.

Places where nothing hurt and no one was ever afraid.

Places where hats were crowns and coats were suits of armor.

Places where band aids were badges of bravery and vegetables tasted like candy and gave you special powers.

Places where no one was ever alone and everyone was loved.

Places I escaped to.

And took others with me to through pages of open doors.

Like the one I opened for Edward.

And the cover I let him open for himself.

The one that's pages of adventures have made his laughter rustle my hair like a dancing wind.

And in other moments, brought his lips straight to the top of my head.

And his arms to pull me tighter against him.

Moments that I wish could last forever.

In a place that I wish I could escape to and never return from.

A place more magical than any I ever dreamed of or created.

This place.

Here.

And now.

With him.

**…**

**…**

I tried to keep the disappointment from my face when Edward stood to leave.

Tried to keep this needy thing I've become from begging him to stay.

Made my arms let go when he pulled away from them at my front door.

And my mouth when he broke our goodnight kiss...

Even though his told me he didn't want to.

I tried to keep myself in place.

Composed and together and calm.

Compliant.

Like I am now.

And like I'm not.

I don't want to be compliant now.

To this thing that's making demands.

Giving me orders.

Like it does every time he leaves.

Telling me to follow him.

Its new obsession.

And mine.

The same object, but of different affections.

Mine are pure.

Its are pure evil.

That I'll never carry out for it.

Only refuse and deny again and again.

But never silence.

Not completely.

It's too desperate to give me peace.

Too hungry.

Needs too much.

If not him then something else.

Someone else.

Anyone, I think sometimes would do.

For _it_.

It claws at me until I can't stand it.

Bury my face in my pillow and scream.

Sometimes even cry.

Because for the first time in my life, I want to be left alone.

By it.

Not him.

Like I am now.

Even though he isn't far.

He's farther than I want him to be.

Far enough to let something else get closer.

Too close.

Something that wants inside of me.

Or is, even though I tried to push it out.

Because I wasn't strong enough.

And I'm not now.

To fight it alone.

And maybe I don't have to be.

I hope...

That I'm strong enough to not.

**…**

**…**

I made it as far as the grass of Edward's front yard before my legs got too heavy.

His front door is only feet away...

A few feet and a few steps and I'm there...

But my legs refuse to take me any further.

Won't carry me to safety.

The safety I'm wrong to ask him for.

But need.

I want to surrender myself to him...

But not the way I should.

Want to lay myself bare and open myself wide...

To him.

But not.

He said that I want to spend my nights with the man, not the agent.

And he was more right than he could possibly know.

About that.

But how separate are they really? How can I be sure which one of them I'll find behind that door?

It's three o'clock in the morning...

If I wake one, will the other open his eyes? Shine light over the dark? And me?

Light, like comes on in front of me now.

As his door swings open.

And he leans in the open frame.

And stares at me.

With tired eyes that move from my wide ones, down to my cemented feet in his grass, and back up again.

Sear and scorch me.

Like his voice, low and deep from recent sleep... "You're close... "

_I want to be closer... _"I'm trying... "

"I see that."

"But I got stuck... "

"I see that, too."

"I... "

"Tell me to come and get you."

"I want to." _So much..._

"Then say it."

"I... "

"You...?"

"Want...

"Need... " _Damn it, why is it so hard? Help me, Edward... _

"One more, Bella."

"_You_." _Please..._

His movements are catlike...

Sleek and swift.

Lithe and powerful and confident.

Commanding.

It's mere seconds before his arms are around me, lifting me effortlessly from the invisible weight that held me down.

The weight I no longer feel as he carries me into his house.

Through it and into his bedroom.

Lays me against his pillow.

Brushes his fingertips across my lips and then away...

Removes my shoes and drops them to the floor.

Pulls the blanket over me.

And tucks it tightly around me.

Like a cocoon.

And starts to walk away.

"No, Edward, I-"

"I know. Just keeping you safe until I get back."

I don't know where he's going, but I'm not afraid as I watch him walk from the room.

I know he'll come back.

To it.

And to me.

To what's his.

And what I want to be.

He knows what I'm asking him for.

And what I want to give him.

What I want him to take from me.

The next page I want him to turn.

And door I want him to come through.

He knows...

What I want him to claim.

I see it in his eyes when he comes back.

After just a couple of moments.

And unwraps me from my cocoon.

Traces his fingers over my face...

That I brought to him bare.

Naked.

Of everything but the emotions I wear on it.

Don't try to conceal.

The need.

And the want.

That's only for him.

The man who may one day destroy me.

But who at this moment can save me.

And does as he lowers his mouth to mine.

His mouth that's cool and wet and fresh.

I smile against it with the understanding of what he left me for.

And feel the same in his hair, damp and less tousled than when he appeared in his front doorway.

His hair that I tug on as he chuckles.

"I already know you're perfect," I sigh.

"I'm not perfect, Bella... but I believe we can be. If you don't fight it."

"It's not you I'm fighting, Edward," I whisper, not even caring about the pieces those words have given him.

Because I don't care about anything now...

But how safe I feel.

Safe and wanted and beautiful...

As he slowly peels the clothes from my body, his gaze travelling even more slowly over every inch of it he uncovers.

Exposes.

And me...

I'm trembling with anticipation.

Anticipation that makes him smile.

With sweetness, not arrogance.

Gratitude, not expectation.

"I'm going to make you love me," he says, his words pure and shockingly vulnerable, his hands soft on my skin, his eyes piercing mine.

"You already have," I answer, with words just as pure and just as vulnerable, if not more, holding nothing back from him.

Not wanting to.

Not needing to.

Not afraid to.

But not stupid, either...

"But _make _me," I tell him. "More." _If more is even possible? I'm not sure that it is..._

And then I am...

Because he lowers his head to my breast.

Places his lips just over my heart.

Closes his eyes.

And lets my words sink in, I think.

Not the ones I just said...

But the ones I said before that.

That he feels the weight of.

And the truth of against his lips.

And that I want him to feel everywhere...

My hands move to the back of his head.

Cradle it.

For a moment.

And then weave through his hair...

Slowly and tenderly through the soft silk of it.

His mouth opens and his contented breath flows over my skin, making me shiver beneath him.

And then he looks up at me.

And then down as he raises himself up to hover over me, his hands on either side of my head.

Breaks down every wall and erases every moment of pain I've ever felt with his gaze.

My eyes don't hide from his as I reach down and find the edge of his t-shirt, letting my fingers feel every inch of his skin as I lift it up his body.

Every moment matters now.

Every movement.

Every look and every touch.

Because I can't know when the last will be.

And can't take any for granted.

His shirt is bunched beneath his shoulders.

Because he hasn't moved.

And because I stopped...

Torn between the look in his eyes and the rest of him I want to see.

And feel.

On me.

Against me.

Around me.

And inside.

"I think we're at an impasse," I sigh, a helpless smile forming on my lips.

He only nods his head slightly.

And returns my smile, though his is far less helpless.

And then not helpless at all as he raises up and nods again...

His arms lifting as I pull the shirt over his head, the decision made.

By him.

Because the ones he makes are ones I've learned to trust.

And crave.

Those decisions have brought me here.

The choices I was given and not.

By this man who knows what he wants.

And takes as he lowers himself back over me.

His body hovering again...

Dominant, yet soft.

His mouth possessive and pleading all at once...

I give in to both.

Surrender myself to the _all _of him.

Without fear of losing anything.

Because I can only gain by giving.

This time.

And pray he feels it.

In the warmth of my kiss.

And my touch.

My fingers that learn every inch of his back.

For my eyes that can't see.

Because they're shrouded in darkness.

Darkness born of bliss, not loss.

His mouth could never lead me to anything but.

And doesn't as it descends over me...

Tortuous and slow.

Not at all what I expected from him.

This confident and arrogant man.

Not at all...

His kisses are tender.

His taste deliberate and controlled.

Generous and seeking.

Needing.

To miss nothing and give me everything as he doesn't.

His hands are under my back...

Lifting me to him.

His mouth is at my right breast now.

Tracing lazy circles around my nipple with his tongue.

My back arches as he pulls it into his warm mouth.

Something I've ached for.

But maybe not as much as he has.

It seems.

Because he sucks hard.

And harder still as I cry out in unabashed pleasure.

That fuels him.

Drives him lower.

Over my ribs, that he traces every ridge of with his tongue before he makes his way to my stomach.

His hands continue to move under me, delivering me to him, as his mouth worships. It's grown gentle again. Sweet...

With nips and tender kisses over the soft flesh.

Lingering.

Unlike his hands...

That move under my ass and down my thighs, pulling them apart.

And then nothing.

No movement.

No touch or kiss.

His hands hold my legs, but they're still.

Like his lips, where they rest on my stomach.

And his eyes...

That, when I open mine and look down at, I find locked on my face.

Giving me a choice.

But I don't want to make it...

"You own it all," I declare softly, "I'm at your mercy. Willingly. Even if you choose to have none on me... while you _make_ me."

"You forgot part," he says sexily, his lips forming into another kiss against my skin.

I'd deprive myself of air before I'd deny him. "_More_."

But giving him what he wanted deprived me of nothing.

And I can't take my eyes off of him as his mouth makes my choice.

And his...

And continues its downward path.

Blindly, because his eyes are still locked with mine.

As his mouth locks down on his gift.

The one I brought to him because I needed to.

Offered to him, praying he'd take it.

In a way different than he's taking it now, but a way that I know he will.

When he wants to.

Which could never come soon enough...

Or could come too fast.

Because as deeply as I ache for him to fill me...

His appreciation of what does is mindblowingly blissful.

I've never felt so wanted.

So craved and needed.

Or so adored.

Worshiped.

His lips and tongue are purposeful.

And driven by desire.

For me.

That overcomes him as his eyes close.

Freeing mine.

And me to let go.

Let go and grab on...

My hands fist the sheets beneath me as his move under my ass.

Cup the rounded flesh and lift me possessively to his making-me-love-him-more mouth.

That hungrily licks and sucks every drop of its love for it while mine flows in delirious whimpers and cries from mine.

Whimpers and cries and pleas...

To never stop...

To never want to...

And of his name...

That makes him.

And his mouth move to latch on to the inside of my right thigh.

Marking it.

Before moving back up my body.

Quick, not slow like its descent.

And claiming mine with the taste of me.

A game of show and tell...

Showing me what's his while telling me he wants more.

The rest.

That I can't wait another second to give him.

As he raises above me again and his eyes blaze his order.

Free him so he can claim me.

And I do...

With selfish obedience.

And with a hatred for the clothes that separated him from me.

And that no longer do.

Because the last barrier has been ripped away.

The last step taken.

By me...

Who looks up at him with more want than I've ever felt.

Begging him to have mercy on it.

And none at all.

"More," I say again.

Without shame.

"All," he replies, his thumb stroking a circle around my trembling lips. "I'm going to take everything from you, Bella. Everything you want me to take, and things you don't even know you have to give me."

I nod - a slight movement that's meaning is anything but - and his smiling lips replace his thumb on mine...

His thumb that traces the line of my jaw and then strokes my cheek as his hand cradles the back of my head. A movement he repeats with his other, as he lowers the rest of his body slowly over me.

His weight feels good...

Better than I imagined it could...

And I pull on him desperately, wanting more of it.

Wanting _all_.

And gasping with breathless awe at the feel of it when he gives it to me, as he slides achingly slowly inside of me.

My breathless gasps that aren't alone.

Aren't the only.

The sound of _his_ takes what's left of the air in my lungs.

And I hold him to me in every way that I can...

My arms wrapped tightly around his back, my legs nearly meeting them...

As tears flow over my cheeks like a river when his hips finally greet the insides of my thighs.

His heated skin flush with mine.

And buried _in_.

I've never been more filled.

Not any part of me.

And he knows it.

His eyes are light with it.

His mouth sweet and accepting as his tongue sweeps the tears from my face.

And his body understanding as it lies motionless on top of me.

And within.

He doesn't move a muscle.

Knows I don't want him to.

Yet.

That this is what I needed.

Him.

Holding me in place.

Keeping me together.

Making me feel safe.

Secure.

And full.

The emptiness gone.

The fear it brought obliterated.

And the destruction...

The fight...

Mine...

Surrendered.

To him.

Because I came to him.

Even though I got stuck...

I tried.

Trusted him to take it away.

And me.

The all that I was before he came.

Told me he'd take.

And make me...

_His_.

That I try to tell him I'm ready to be with a subtle movement of my hips.

And a wanting nip at his lips.

That curve into a sexy smile...

As he instantly starts to move.

Though calling it that is an insult.

_Movement_...

It's not a word I've ever thought about.

Not an action I've given weight to.

Until tonight...

When I couldn't continue my own.

And now...

When his makes me forget every one before it.

And everything.

My own name included...

And every other I've ever spoken or heard...

But his.

"Edward... "

He answers me by increasing his pace, and his grip on me - holding me tightly and firmly in place beneath him. Giving me all of him. Making me take it. And give more...

Turning his name to screams as it continues its movement through my mouth with every thrust and earth shattering rotation of his masterful hips.

Driving me into his bed like the stake he drove into the earth.

_My_ earth.

_My_ space.

_My_ deepest.

Innermost.

That doesn't belong to me anymore.

It's his.

He's claimed it.

Like my voice that's only sounds are him.

Of and from and for...

Sounds that my mouth has never made.

Or my ears heard.

Like the beautiful quiet.

That I came searching for.

And found.

Because he took _everything _from me.

Like he said he would.

And like I knew he would.

Before he told me.

I knew...

The moment I gave up my fight.

Stepped through my front door...

And waited for him to come and carry me through his.

Movements...

That _made _me.


	17. Chapter 17: Watch and See

**I know how long it's been... and that this should be longer after all of that time... but it's just not. What it _is_ is a road. And it will get us where we need to go. Just watch and see...**

**...**

**Chapter Sixteen: Watch and See**

I wake alone in Edward's bed, feeling like I only just closed my eyes. The room is dark, and I think perhaps I did, but the clock on the nightstand tells me the day has begun.

I slept for hours. Well...

A couple, anyway. After the more that I didn't. That _we_ didn't...

I came here because I needed something. I needed him. And he gave it to me. Himself. All of...

But he took something, too.

All of me.

Parts I didn't know I had. Or could give. Or was.

Just like he said he would.

And I know I'm in trouble.

Trouble that there's no way out of.

I'll never be able to say goodbye.

To him.

Now.

Not after...

Probably not even before...

But _definitely_ not now.

And that knowledge slithers over every inch of my skin as I climb from his bed.

Becomes his hands and his mouth and his body on mine as I dress.

And carries me silently, like he did, as I walk until I'm through the door of my own house.

I could hear him somewhere in his.

As I laid there.

And as I walked.

He was talking to someone.

On the phone, I assume.

In hushed, angry tones.

It's why I left.

Because that sound wasn't meant for me.

He left me in silence.

So I left with the same.

But not alone.

I was followed...

He's standing in my living room when I come out of the bathroom. "I see your legs are working better this morning... "

_I liked the way they worked a few hours ago... when they held you to me. _

" ...But not your _mouth_."

"I heard you talking when I woke up... somewhere... I was just trying to respect your privacy."

"Next time respect _me_, and say goodbye before you leave. Or good morning, and don't."

"I really just thought you wanted-"

"I _wanted_ not to wake the beautiful woman in my bed."

"Do you have another bed somewhere? Because I just saw myself, and-"

"And I'm all over you."

_You are._

"Which is what you wanted, I might add."

"I don't deny that."

"You couldn't. And you shouldn't deny how beautiful it is... " He steps forward until our bodies touch, but just barely, and trails the tips of his fingers down my face, his thumbs brushing over my lips so lightly I barely feel them, yet crumble under their weight. "Me... all over you."

"It _felt _beautiful... " I whisper, a breathless admission. "You… all over... "

"One more," he breathes against my mouth, his fingers still moving and now running down my arms.

"Me."

His hands reach mine and clasp them behind my back, pulling me against him, as his mouth captures mine. His kiss is soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the intensity he holds me against him with.

"Good morning," he says softly as he pulls back and looks down at me.

"Good morning," I say softly back.

"Isn't my way much better?"

"Better than anything."

He smiles at my admission this time - and its multiple meanings - and brushes his lips against mine once more before letting me go. "You make the coffee, and grab me a smoke, _please_, and I'll make breakfast."

I nod and grab my cigarettes from the coffee table and then follow him to the kitchen. I watch him as he goes straight to the pantry door and pulls out the bag of cat food, and gives it a shake. Figaro comes running from wherever he was hiding and rubs against his leg, meowing, until his bowl is filled and placed on the floor.

"Now, _that's_ a proper 'Good morning'," he quips, giving me a sideways glance. "Good morning, Figaro."

"You had food," I say with a roll of my eyes, lighting a cigarette, waiting for the carafe to fill with water.

I hold one out to him as he walks towards me, but he takes the lit one from my mouth and puts it in his.

"Open," he says as I shake my head at him, and takes the offered smoke from my hand and places it between my lips. Then he leans down until the tips meet, and burn...

"I'm glad I didn't have to tell you to _suck_." He smirks, blowing smoke through his nose, and I shake my head at him again. _Sexy fucker..._

"I imagine it's a natural reflex if I _want _what someone puts in my mouth."

"If you have a special request for breakfast, Bella, make it."

"How are you at making omelettes?"

"Better than you are at saying what you really want."

"You mean saying what _you _want?"

"We want the same thing."

"You wish."

"I don't deny that."

He couldn't possibly as he leans over, because I _feel _what he wants press against me as he turns the faucet off. The carafe could have filled ten times by now...

"It's not that what you want doesn't sound appetizing... " I tease, " ...but your mouth gave an order, _and _a polite request, for coffee and a cigarette. So, since I already disrespected you with a lack of a proper 'Good morning', to not give you what you _told _me you wanted after-"

"The coffee can wait. And so can these." He grabs the cigarette from my hand, and along with his own, stubs them out in the sink. "Because at this moment, there's nothing I want more than to feel your lips wrapped around my disrespected cock."

Talk about saying what's on your mind... "Your _disrespected _cock?"

"Yes. My _disrespected _cock. Your hasty - and sneaky - departure this morning was an insult to both of us, and our plans for you when you finally opened those beautiful eyes."

"I see. Well, how truly thoughtless and inconsiderate of me. And unfortunate _for _me that I robbed myself of your plans. And its. My apologies. To both of you." _And me... damn._

"_I_ accept your apology... but-"

"But _it _doesn't?" I laugh.

"No. It _doesn't_."

"Well, I wish it would. My words are heartfelt, I swear."

"I believe you, but again... "

"It doesn't."

"No."

"Hmmm... that's quite unfortunate."

"It is. For you."

_Really. Sexy. Fucker. _

_Well, since he wants it... _"Do you think if I... oh, I don't know... wrapped my lips around it, it would consider forgiveness?"

"I think you should take your chances."

_So do I. _

I push him until his back hits the counter. "I'm sure you do... " Then pop the button on his jeans. "And I completely agree with you." And pull down the zipper. "This time." And brush my lips against his. "Now, you make sure to tell me if I disrespect your personal space in any way." And push down his jeans, along with his boxers. "You'll do that, won't you?"

"Yeah, wait for that."

I smile at his smug smirk and drop slowly to my knees, my eyes never leaving his as my hands move down his legs.

"Good morning," I say to _it_, wrapping my hand around it and running my thumb down the underside, causing his chuckle to turn to a low moan.

A low moan that turns to a sudden inhalation of breath as my tongue moves slowly up the trail my thumb just went down.

His eyes blaze with need as he watches me lick the salted pool from the tip of his cock, and I'm instantly filled with my own.

I want him.

I want to please him.

I ache with it...

The need to give him everything he could ever want.

Be it.

The all.

And the all consuming.

For him.

It courses through me...

Fierce...

And irrational...

As I pull him into my mouth.

But just the tip...

And suck.

His eyes close and his legs jerk and he grips the counter behind him.

It makes me feel powerful.

And needy.

I reach up and pull his hands from the granite edge as I pull him deeper into my mouth. His breath hitches and his eyes flash open when I place them on either side of my head.

And it's exactly what I wanted.

I want him to watch.

I want him to see.

Know how much I want him.

And how much I want to give to him.

And be.

I want the knowledge to consume him.

Like I do as I sheath him fully in my mouth.

Run my hands down his legs and clutch his jeans in my fists as I bury his cock in my throat.

And watch him.

As the pleasure pulls him under and back up again with every greedy movement of my mouth.

His hands are in my hair now, but they're gentle and adoring. Not hard and unrelenting like my grip on the bunched denim in mine.

That's presence now settles into my consciousness. And won't leave.

He said he had plans for me this morning, but he should have left for work by now. He's been going over the Catwoman case - as it's been so stupidly officially named - with a finetooth comb with Jasper for the last couple of days, determined there's something he missed. He, as in Jasper...

Who I immediately remove thoughts of from my brain. "Edward?" I ask, my lips soft against his hard.

"Hmmm?" he hums as I swirl my tongue around him.

"Why are you wearing jeans?"

I pull him back into my mouth as I wait for his answer, knowing it's cruel to ask him to form a coherent thought, but irrationally needing him to.

"What? You want to know why... fuck. Stop."

I still, just as he fills my throat again, and his hands tighten in my hair. He gently pulls, and I think he just wants to prolong it, so I let him, and he pulls until he frees himself from my mouth with a sigh.

My tongue snakes out again but he grabs my chin and holds it still, his glistening hard cock now out of my reach. "No, Bella. I meant _stop_."

_Ouch. _

"Right. Of course you did. You always say what-"

"It just wasn't-"

"I _heard _you." I jerk out of his grasp and get up from my suddenly-humiliating position on the floor.

He pulls his pants up and tucks himself inside before reaching for me. "No, you _didn't_, because you're not giving me a chance to explain."

"What's there to explain, Edward? You wanted something, I gave it to you, and then you decided you didn't want it anymore. I got it, believe me."

"You got it _wrong_. And I'm going to tell you how you did, but first I want to tell you something else...

"Anyone who ever didn't want what you gave them was a fool, and sure as hell not worthy of taking anything from you. Now, I happen to believe _I _am, but I was wrong to ask you for anything this morning, and that is the _only _reason I stopped you."

"I don't know what that means, or is _supposed _to mean, but don't make excuses because my ego is shattered. I'm a big girl, and I'm sure I'll get over it eventually."

"I don't want your ego to be shattered, or anything else, but I'm not making excuses. I need to _talk _to you, Bella. And that's what I should have been doing, instead of being selfish, because there isn't a lot of time."

"Time for what?"

"Time before I have to leave."

"Don't worry about me, Edward. Go to work."

"That's just it, Bella... You asked me why I was wearing jeans... it's because I'm not going to work. I'm going back to Chicago."

_What? _"You're going back... "

"Yes. I-"

"You're _leaving_."

"Yes, but-"

"When?"

"In a couple of hours, but-"

"I see."

"Damn it, Bella! No, you don't see! Will you let me finish a fucking sentence?"

"Goodbye isn't a sentence, Edward. It's a word. One _cruel _word. And I don't want to hear it. Not from you... "

I thought not hearing it was the worst thing I could imagine, but I was wrong. I was so wrong...

He hasn't even said it yet, and I can't breathe. I can't...

"Listen to me. You have to _listen_, Bella. You're jumping to conclusions. Again. And again, they're the wrong ones. I'm not going _back _to Chicago... I didn't mean it to sound that way. I do have to go, but it should only be for a few days. And I want you to understand something...

"I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you. And I wouldn't... for a single second, if I didn't have to. I need you to believe that."

"You're not _leaving_?"

"No. Hell no."

"And you stopped me before because-"

"Because I felt like an asshole. The luckiest asshole on earth, but an asshole. And I'm sorry for that."

"You should have let me finish. I might be more confident that you'll come back if you had."

"I'm coming back, Bella. And you _will _finish."

"Why are you going?"

"My brother had an accident... "

_Brother? But he said..._

"It's bad, I guess... and my parents are... well... or I wouldn't go. And I'd ask you to go with me, but-"

"You don't have to explain anything. It's your family, and they need you."

"_You_ need me, too. And I'd much rather be here taking care of you. I-"

_I'd rather you were here, too. I'm afraid for you to leave... _"Don't worry about me. Figaro will take care of me. We'll miss you together."

"Did you just admit that you're going to miss me, Bella?"

"Is that what you heard?"

"It's what you said."

"Then I suppose I can't deny it." _You'd never believe me anyway if I tried._

"No... I wouldn't."

_There he goes again..._

**…**

**...**

"Have everything?"

I showered and dressed while Edward went to pack, and came outside just as he was putting his suitcase in the back of his Tahoe.

"I _do_, actually." He looks at me as he shuts the tailgate, but my eyes are glued to the license plate that he still hasn't changed.

And he sees that, of course... "Your plate expires at the end of this month. When I get back, you and I have a date at the DOL."

I try to smile, but my lips fail me. "You better go. Or do FBI agents get special breeze-through privileges at airport security?"

"I have time."

_Good for you. I feel like I'm out of it._

"Talk to me, Bella."

"About what?" My voice cracks on the words, and my eyes blur with tears. I clear my throat and try to laugh it off. "I bet this always happens after you've taken a woman to your bed, huh? They-"

"Don't joke. Are you honestly afraid that I won't come back? Tell me the truth."

"I don't know... "

"What _do _you know?"

I wipe a traitor tear from my cheek and look away. "I know that it would rip my heart out if you didn't. If you really want the truth."

"That's a pretty big admission."

"I seem to be making a lot of those lately."

"Yes you have, which makes the timing of this-"

"What it is."

"I'm coming back, Bella."

"Well, right now you're going home... "

"Chicago isn't home. I consider home where I'm happy to go, or to be, and that's not there. Right now it's here, where I wish I didn't have to leave."

"But you do. Right now."

He looks at his watch and sighs. "Think of it this way, you'll have your personal space back for a few days."

"I didn't really want it back."

He cups my face in his hands and looks deep into my eyes. "I know that. And I know I told you you'd never watch me leave... and I'm breaking that promise now... but that's exactly the reason I don't want you to take me to the airport. I want you to see me come back. And how hard I'll work when I do to make it up to you."

"I'd like to see that," I whisper through quivering lips.

"I promise you will." He pulls me into his arms as he says the words, and I feel their truth around me...

But it's not enough to wash away everything else I feel when his lips meet mine.

And then don't anymore.

And I'm left watching him leave, holding only his key in my hand.

"_Goodbye_, Edward... "


	18. Chapter 18: Consumed

**I know what some of you want... but like Bella, you'll have to wait. But here's what you can have now... a bunch of words. Theirs and mine. And some doubt. **

**Chapter Seventeen: Consumed**

Edward's Tahoe pulled away over an hour ago.

And I still haven't moved an inch.

From where he left me.

I'm stuck again.

Only this time...

He isn't coming to carry me away.

Isn't coming to make me move.

Make me...

Anything at all.

He already did that.

He _made _me.

And then he left.

He. Left.

He left _me_.

While I watched.

The one thing I never wanted to see...

From him.

He made me.

**…**

**…**

"Bella? Sweetheart? What are you doing?"

"I... don't... he... made me... "

"You don't what? Who made you, honey? What did they make you do?"

"Edward... "

"He made you _what_, Bella?"

"He made me... he... and then he _left_... He left... "

I can't get the words out.

Can't explain.

But I don't have to.

I see my pain reflected back at me in these deep blue eyes before me.

Pain I've seen before.

Pain I once inflicted.

In the same.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go inside."

"I... I can't. He... I... "

"Bella, it's raining. It's _pouring _rain, and you're drenched. And it's cold. You're shivering, and your teeth are chattering... "

I reach up and feel my cheeks with my trembling, empty hand. My skin is wet... icy... the scorching tears gone.

But I still feel them. The way they burned. The way they...

"I... I didn't feel it... the rain... I didn't... I couldn't... He... "

"Okay. It's okay, darlin."

I turn back to the empty road...

Search it until I can't see it anymore.

Until familiar arms carry me away from it.

Arms I said goodbye to...

Arms...

That even though I did, came back.

Arms that are still here.

Or again.

Still open.

Always.

For me.

"Why are you here?" I ask as he sets me on my feet and closes the door.

"I'm working on a new case," he says, taking off his jacket and dropping it in a wet heap on the entry floor.

"Oh."

"Actually, that's not true... " His words trail off as he walks through my living room and disappears down the hall, but then he's coming back, a towel in his hand. "It's not new. It's an old one. And very important to me."

"Is it me?" I ask as he brings the towel to my hair.

"It's always been you, Bella. You know that."

"He left."

"You need to get out of those wet clothes."

"Did you know that? That he left?"

"Yes, honey."

"I watched him go."

"Bella... "

"I watched... this time. I could see... "

"It's not the same, sweetheart. This time."

"No... he didn't sneak away when my eyes were closed. They were open. I saw him. He-"

"Go put on something dry and we'll talk about it, okay?"

"It hurts, Jasper. To see... "

"I think you're confused about what you saw, honey."

The burning tears return to my cheeks.

Because I want him to be right.

And I look to the door, willing it to open...

Willing Edward to walk through it...

But it stays closed.

The one I opened for him...

Doesn't open for me.

And then, just like the empty road, I can't see it anymore.

Because I'm pulled away from it.

And down my hallway, that's just as empty.

And into my bedroom.

Where I never asked him to come.

Never gave him the invitation he was waiting for.

Edward...

Before he wasn't.

I look at the bed...

The one no man has ever slept in...

The gift to myself.

The one covered in feathers...

That I laid my head on...

And my body beneath...

As I dreamt of them fluttering around me...

And him.

The man whose need for me would have sent them flying into passionate chaos around us.

Before they settled like gentle kisses on our skin.

Skin that's getting cold now.

And exposed.

Like my heart.

Because Jasper is removing my dripping wet clothes.

While I stand frozen.

And silent.

Unable to ask him not to.

Or tell him.

But unable to do it myself.

Or let go of all that I have left...

Of him.

"Open your hand, sweetheart," he whispers softly to me. And then not so softly to someone else, "Help me, baby. She's... "

I turn my head...

Follow his plea...

Alice's eyes are wide. She's standing in the doorway. Watching...

Her husband...

The man she loves beyond reason.

Stripping the clothes from the woman he once loved the same...

And still does.

But not.

I hope.

And that she knows that.

That it's not the same.

Not quite...

And think she does when she rushes into the room.

And grasps my tightly closed fist in her hands.

The fist that keeps the last bit of wet fabric on my skin.

"What do you have, honey?"

I open it at her gentle prying.

And reveal the silver key.

The one that's made an indent in my skin.

Like he did.

When he put it there.

And before.

"Edward... "

"He's worried about you, Bella. We're going to just put it right here for just a second, okay?"

I try to close my hand around it again, but my movement is too slow. I watch helplessly as she takes the key from my palm and lays it on the bed. And then turns and runs to the dresser as Jasper pulls the sleeve over my now open hand.

That feels too empty...

But then I realize suddenly that Alice's words weren't.

"Worried? _Edward_? Is worried? About me?"

"Yes, honey. He called me. I didn't hear my phone... but I heard the message a few minutes ago. Saying that he had to leave... and that he was worried about you."

"He called me, too," Jasper adds, taking the sweatshirt from Alice's hands and pulling it over my head. "And _you_... several times, he said. He said you weren't answering your phone. And that you were upset when he left. And worried doesn't begin to describe how he sounded, sweetheart."

"It's why you came?"

"Yes," he says, grabbing my hand and guiding it into my sleeve.

"You don't even like him," I say, as he does the same with the other.

"Step in," Alice says softly, holding a pair of sweats at my feet.

Jasper grabs the key from my bed as I reach for it and puts it in my hand, then holds on to me as I do what she says.

"That's more of a professional issue," he says, tucking a strand of my wet hair behind my ear. "But I'll give credit where it's due. Where it's been earned... He's good for you. And to you. His calling me proves that. Though I already knew. I'd already seen."

"But he's gone... "

"And when he can, he'll come back."

"You think he'll come back? You didn't tell me that the last time someone left me."

"Because I didn't believe it then. And because I'd never lie to you. Because I love you. And _because _I do... I can see when someone else does, too."

"You think he... "

"Yes, sweetheart. I do."

I look from him to Alice...

She's not looking at me.

But then she is...

And she nods her head, taking my empty hand in one of hers, and her husband's in the other. "As much as _we _do, I think."

**…**

**…**

"You can go now," I whisper against Jasper's shoulder as I gaze at the steady flames before us.

Alice is on the other side of me on the couch, lazily running a brush through my long ago untangled and barely damp now hair.

"I'll go when I know he's gotten your message, and calls you back."

Alice leans her head against me - mimicking my position against him - with a sigh, "He'll call soon."

She played me the message he left her as Jasper built the fire, and my fear subsided a bit at the sound of his voice. And the true worry and concern I heard in it. And regret, I thought...

Which I _knew _I heard when I listened to the several he left me. While I stood staring down the empty street he left behind.

I robbed myself of something again.

Him.

While I let myself drown in the pain of watching him go.

I wanted him to take me from there...

But was oblivious to the fact that he was trying to do just that.

One of his messages proved it.

And something else I didn't need it to to know.

That he knows too much.

"_I know you're still standing there. I know you're stuck again. In that place where you're afraid. And I know that you need me to help you again... but I can't if you don't let me. I can't if you don't hear me. Hear me, Bella. Hear what you need. It's there... even though I'm not."_

I'm listening now, Edward...

Please...

Don't leave me with silence.

Because _that_...

I'm afraid of hearing.

And terrified...

Of _not_.

**…**

**…**

"Hi."

"Hello, beautiful."

"I'm sorry about earlier... I wasn't in hearing distance of my phone."

"I know."

"But then help came. And I let it. And then I listened. And heard. And now I'm here. Where I am. But you know that, too... I imagine."

"Yes I do. But Bella... I don't want you imagining anything. While I have a great admiration and respect for what your mind can conjure up, I'd like you to keep it clear about me. And focused on what you _know_, rather than imagine."

"Knowing is hard for me, Edward. Sometimes... "

"It's hard for all of us," Jasper whispers, and kisses my cheek. "But you should listen to him. What he wants you to know won't hurt you."

I smile at him as he stands up and grabs Alice's hand, pulling her up and with him as he heads for the door. "Call me if you need anything, Bella. I mean it. _Anything_."

"Thank you," I call to him, blowing him a kiss as he backs out the door. "And thank _you_," I say to Edward, "... or I might still be standing out there in the rain knowing nothing but what watching you leave felt like."

"I'm going to pretend - for just a minute - that I didn't just hear you blow him a kiss. Because what I heard after that... Bella, if that's the only thing I've done that you can remember with me out of your space, then I'm hailing a cab and heading straight back to the airport. To get back in it."

_I wish you would. _"Of course it's not. I remember every single thing... that you've done... or said... It's why watching you leave was so... " I look up as Alice comes back through the door. Her eyes are instantly on me, and _exactly _what flows from my lips... "... _hard_."

"Well, I _want _you to remember every single thing... but more than anything right now, I want you to remember one. I want you to remember me telling you that I'll come back. And to believe me. To know that you can when I tell you something."

"How's your... brother?"

"Not important right now."

"But he's why you went. Why you left... "

"Do you want to ask me something, Bella?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"But not now."

"Why not now?"

"It's not the time."

"If you have a question... or a _doubt_, Bella... then it _is_. Because questions left unasked and unanswered become something else...

"Doubt left to breathe will grow. Until it's bigger than what you know. And consumes you. Consumes everything.

"I won't let you have doubts about me, Bella. Certainly not when I'm not there to erase them. Ask the question."

I glance to the door, where the one person I've never doubted walked through only moments ago.

The _one_.

And then I look to Alice...

Who isn't quite.

Because no matter what I did for her...

No matter what I gave her...

I know that there's a part of her...

A small part...

That _isn't _so small right now...

That doubts _me_.

Even though she shouldn't.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward. You're right... Questions shouldn't be left unasked. And doubt should never be left to sit and breathe. Grow into something bigger... "

Alice gives a small laugh at my words, and my steady gaze at her, where she sits beside me again. Because no matter what her doubts are, she's still my best friend. And won't leave me. Not after what she saw. And what else...

I grab a cigarette from the pack in front of me and hold it out to her. She takes it, and a deep breath while I grab one for myself, and then light them both before asking my question."... It's just... You said once that you were an only child. When I asked you if you were. But now you have a _brother_... "

"I didn't even realize that I... Bella, I'm sorry. And I wish you'd have asked me that before I left."

"Well, I didn't. But I'm asking you now."

"I remember that conversation... I believe you were pointing out certain characteristics of my 'personality'. That I was _spoiled_, if I remember correctly, was your point. An only child... who'd never had to share his toys... which I told you was the truth. Because it was. Is...

"I _was_ an only child. And I never had to share my toys. The family I have now wasn't my family then. I lost my parents when I was young. And then I lived with my grandparents until they died. My _brother _Emmett had been my best friend since we were young boys. We were inseparable up until the time that my parents died and I went to live with my grandparents, who lived a long way from Chicago.

"And I'll explain it all to you when I come back, but the short version is... I wasn't old enough to be on my own when my grandmother died. And I had no other family. I would have went into the system...

"Emmett's parents adopted me so that wouldn't happen, something - though I was unaware of it at the time - that my grandmother had asked of them not long after she became ill. And the day she died, my childhood best friend became my brother."

"Oh. I... I'm sorry, Edward. I-"

"Don't be sorry, Bella. It looked like I lied to you."

"No... I just didn't understand."

"Of course you didn't. You couldn't. And I left you with that... thinking I'd lied to you, and then leaving for it... It's my fault. And I'm very, very sorry."

"It's okay. It makes sense now. But I'd like to point out that we don't do enough talking about _you_."

"A fair and valid point."

"So, your _brother_... you're not close anymore? You don't seem... "

"No. And that's a question I will answer in more depth later, if that's okay? Because this really isn't the time for that."

"Of course."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm okay."

"Not stuck anywhere?"

I look again at Alice, and find her eyes already on me. Her doubt...

_Yes, but not with you..._ "No. I'm not stuck anywhere. Not anymore."

"Good. I was very worried about you."

"Is it okay that I like that?"

"More than okay."

"And that I miss you? Ridiculously? Even though you've only been gone hours?"

"You're making it really hard for me not to go hail that cab."

"I might like that, too. That it's hard for you. It makes me feel a little less-"

**"There you are. Come back inside, Edw-"**

The new voice in our conversation is now muffled.

Or maybe it's his...

And mine has left me.

Just like he did.

Alone...

It's how I feel.

Even though I'm not.

And what I was going to say...

"I'm sorry about that. It makes you feel a little less...?"

Before I didn't. "Nothing. It wasn't important."

Because he isn't...

What I wanted to say.

Before what I did.

Before I lied.

"Bella-"

"I'm keeping you from something... "

"I'm where I want to be."

_And it's not here with me... _"I need to let you go anyway."

He sighs, but doesn't fight. "I'll call you later. Be where you can hear me."

_I was..._

_Before you left._

_And left me with..._

"Goodbye, Edward."

**…**

**…**

"Feeling better?"

"About Edward? _Clearer_, I suppose." Lies are so easy...

"I'm glad, Bella. It was hard to see you so... so... "

"It was no different than if it had been _you_, Alice."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Just like that one is for her. And not at all. "Yes you do. I'm talking about what you saw. When you walked into my bedroom."

"Oh, you mean when I saw my husband undressing the woman he loves?"

"_You're_ the woman he loves, Alice."

"Yes, but not the _only_."

"I was in another place. It wasn't-"

"I know that. _You _were in another place. But Jasper wasn't. He was right here. In your place."

"Being a _friend_."

"Wishing he was more."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is, Bella. He'd never do anything... because he'd never betray me like that. He's too good of a man. But it doesn't mean he doesn't think about it. About you. The woman he never would have left if you hadn't have made him."

"He _loves _you, Alice. You're his wife. His life. The one he wants. The one he knows is meant for him. The _only_."

"You mean the one you chose _for _him?"

"I didn't choose for him. I just showed him where to look. He chose on his own."

"You can try to spin it any way you like, but the truth will never change, Bella. Like I heard you tell Edward... that knowing was hard sometimes for you... Well, knowing will always be hard for me. Because I _know _I was, and will always be, Jasper's _second _choice."

"That's not true. You-"

"Don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Alice-"

"No more!"

"But you're _wrong_."

"No, Bella, I'm not. But it's okay... I've been living with it for years. And as long as you're in love with someone else, and as long as my husband knows that you are, I'll continue to live with it.

"You're not the only one here who wants Edward to come back. And you're not the only one whose heart would be shattered if he didn't. My whole life depends on it. Because _you _wouldn't come back from this one. Not on your own. Not to live yours...

"Not without _mine_."


	19. Chapter 19: You, Me, and We

**Chapter Eighteen: You, Me, and We**

"Alice, please don't be like that."

"Just eat _your _pizza, Bella, and leave me alone."

"It's _our _pizza. And he probably doesn't even realize that he forgot."

Jasper ordered us a pizza and had it delivered to my house. But it's missing Alice's favorite topping. And she's making another mountain out of another molehill.

"He didn't forget that _you_ like sausage and mushrooms and extra sauce!"

_Just like Edward... _but not about. "Would you like me to order another one for you? With double pepperoni and extra cheese?"

"Am I supposed to be so flattered that _you _know what I like on my pizza that I forget to be upset that my husband doesn't?"

"He knows, Alice. And I don't want you to be upset at all. About anything."

"Of course you don't want _me _to be upset about anything... because you won't be the center of attention if I am. My husband's!"

**…**

**…**

We spent the next hour in silence. And then she stormed out of my house without a word. And without having eaten a single slice of pizza. That I really didn't think he meant to not order pepperoni on, even though he knows I hate it.

But then he told me that he did. Mean not to. When I called him. Right after she left. And warned him about the coming storm.

His wife.

Who was headed home, I thought.

I wanted him to know. The way she was feeling. The things she had said.

To me.

About him.

Wanted to prepare him.

But he didn't sound surprised.

And told me that he was sorry.

That she'd said them to me.

The things she had only ever said to him.

When she was feeling jealous. Or upset.

Then I asked him if she ever had a reason to be. Jealous, or upset...

Because I needed to know.

And he said that some questions were better left unasked.

And unanswered.

Which gave me mine.

The one I hoped he wouldn't.

And then he said that he loved his wife. Something I'd never need to ask him. Something I'd never doubt.

And something that he said that _she_ wouldn't when she got home.

That he'd make her know. Remind her. Prove to her how much. For all of us.

And then he asked me to please remember how much she loved _me_.

And to forgive her for the things that she'd said.

Because tomorrow she would be better.

And she would be sorry that she had.

And I told him that I knew that.

Because I do. Or _hope_, anyway. That she'd be better.

_And me..._

And then I told him that I would. Forgive her.

And then I said goodbye.

Just now.

But my phone rings in my hand before I can even put it down.

The ring that tells me who it is without looking at the screen.

Because during our hour of silence, I found myself a new ringtone. Just for Edward.

The Criminal Minds theme music. The sound of which I like, if not the _why_. But not nearly as much as his voice.

That I hear before I can even say hello. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"

"Um... well, I already told you I miss you, so let me think... "

"Do you?"

"Miss you? Yes. You're still gone, aren't you?"

"Yes. You sure as hell wouldn't have been letting another man undress you in your bedroom if I wasn't."

_Oh, Alice, you didn't..._

But she obviously did. "Alice called you."

"Yes. She did."

"Well, she shouldn't have."

"I disagree. And you better start explaining... "

I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples, trying to ward off the pain that I fear is coming my way. I don't know what to say to him. What kind of explanation would be right, or enough for him, if such a thing is even possible now.

I know I would be angry if I were him, having to ask me such a question at all. I'm not sure _any_ answer or explanation would be good enough for me if the roles were reversed.

But then I hear that woman's voice in my head... the one I heard earlier... the one I didn't ask him about. The one I was afraid to know the truth about... am still afraid to...

"I'm waiting, Bella."

And I know that I'm grateful that's he's _not_ afraid to ask me. That he didn't let it sit to breathe and grow inside of him.

She couldn't have called him long ago. It had to have been right after she stormed out the door. Minutes ago...

Probably the very same minutes I was talking to Jasper.

And just like I just did with him, he probably just hung up from their conversation.

And he didn't wait a single minute to have one with me. This one... that I'm making him wait for.

And that I won't for another second, letting the words start to trickle out of me, praying that they're enough. "I was a mess, Edward... after you left. It had started raining... and I stood in it for I don't know how long... which you already know... I already told you...

"I didn't even realize I was or had been until Jasper came... because you called him... because you knew I needed help...

"I was soaked... shivering... just standing there where you left me... staring down the street... _our_ street... the way you'd gone... completely heartbroken... and helpless.

"He was just trying to help me... like you sent him to do... not that way, I know, but... I couldn't help myself... I couldn't... I... so he...

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm sorry that he did. That he had to. I'm sorry that I wasn't stronger. And I'm sorry if that's not good enough, that I'm not... but that's what happened. _All_ that happened. I swear it was innocent. I-"

"Alright."

"Alright?" I ask, not believing my ears.

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Everyone has a choice, Edward. Or at least they should... You-"

"Yes, Bella, they should... and _I_ am sorry for the one I made."

_What? No... no no no... please..._ "Please don't say that. I'm _sorry_. I-"

"To _leave _you. And hurt you so much that it made you helpless. That it made you need anyone that wasn't me. Because I wasn't there so you could. It was the wrong choice, Bella. The one I made, and didn't give you."

He's too good to be true. Much too good... "Edward, it's not your fault that I'm-"

"It is today."

**…**

**…**

Go away.

Go away go away go away!

Please go away...

Please...

_**Don't you know by now I'll never leave you?**_

No! I don't know that! Because you will! I'll make you!

_**I'm not them, Bella. **_**Them**_**, you made. Effortlessly. But it won't work that way with me. You can't leave **_**yourself**_**.**_

You are not me!

_**Again with the denial? Haven't you tired of that yet?**_

The only thing I've tired of is _you_. Leave. Me. Alone!

_**You don't want to be alone. That's why you got a cat. And me.**_

I don't want _you_.

_**Too late.**_

No it's not. You're going to go away.

_**If you want to take a trip, I'm all for travel. Chicago would be fun. Though not so much for him. Not after our arrival, anyway. Not like he's having **_**now**_**.**_

We're not going to Chicago!

_**You didn't even ask him who she was. The woman he left you to be with.**_

He didn't leave me to be with anyone.

_**Yet he is. With someone. You know that. You heard her. You, that's **_**we**_**.**_

The only _we _there is is Edward and me. And my cat. The we I want. And it doesn't include you. You're not a part of it! You're _not _a part of me. And I'm not going to let you be. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever again.

_**We'll see. We... that's YOU.**_

**…**

**…**

I tossed and turned all night.

But I didn't get out of bed.

Except to go next door and crawl into Edward's.

Because I needed to feel him.

Smell him.

The him that isn't here.

But that I wish was.

So that something else wouldn't be.

The something else that brought him to me.

And that wants me to take to him, now that he's gone.

Because it wants him never to come back.

And never to go anywhere ever again.

But that's not what I want. Not what I want at all.

I just want him.

Proof that we're different.

Not the same.

That it _isn't _me.

And could never be a part of we.

**…**

**…**

"Good morning, how's my favorite stunningly beautiful woman?"

"Good morning. She's better suddenly, though I seriously doubt stunningly beautiful at this exact moment. How are you? Who I'm sure _is_. And how's your brother?"

"He'll live. And _I_ am drinking my first cup of coffee of the day, miserably, because it's bitter. Because it isn't yours, and because I'm not drinking it with you, who I _know_ is at this exact moment."

"Are you drinking it with _anyone_? Who also might be?"

"_Anyone_?"

The question had flown out of my mouth as quickly as I'd thought it, but since I let it, I'm going to let him give me the answer. "Yes, _anyone_." _Please say no, please say no..._

"Do you want to ask me something, Bella?"

"I just did."

"Something _else_?"

"I heard a woman's voice yesterday," I say softly, the words hurting my own ears. "The first time you called... "

"And you want to know if I'm drinking my coffee with _her_."

_I'm afraid to know... but... _"Yes. I really do."

"No, Bella. I absolutely am _not _drinking my coffee with her, who, by the way, would be _invisible_ next to you. Not that she'll ever get that honor. To be next to you. And in case I haven't answered your question thoroughly enough, I'm not drinking my coffee with _anyone _else, either. Though I expect that my father will come down at any moment and join me."

"Are you mad? That I asked you if you were?"

"No. But I _am _mad that you didn't ask me yesterday, about her. You'd have slept better last night if you had."

"Yes, I probably would have. But-"

"Now, crawl out of my bed and walk your stunningly beautiful ass into my office."

_Crawl out of... _"How did you know I was in your bed?"

"Are you denying that you are?"

"No, but-"

"_But_ it's time to get out. I want to show you something."

"Do you have cameras in here?" I ask, scanning the room in horror. "That are linked to your phone? Or your laptop? FBI boy?"

"FBI _man_. And no," he laughs, "I do not have cameras in there. Just a stunningly beautiful woman that is wasting time asking silly questions when I'm trying to give her answers to more important ones."

"You even stalk yourself? Freak."

"_Office_."

I scan the room one more time as I climb from his bed, willing myself to believe him, but knowing I'd probably never see it if there was. Like I know anything about FBI technology...

"Okay," I say with a sigh. "I'm in your office. What do you want me to do?"

"Open the bottom left hand drawer of my desk."

"Open."

"Now take out the file folder."

It's an easy order to follow because it's the only one in the drawer. "Out."

"Open it."

I do, and inside is a single photograph. Of Edward with his arm around another stunningly beautiful woman, with another man beside her, and a man and woman on his other side. Edward's other side. The one without the woman. That really is stunningly beautiful... though she pales next to him... But who wouldn't?

"Are you looking at it?"

"Yes."_ Unfortunately..._

"Do you see the woman next to me? The blonde?"

"You know I do."

"That's whose voice you heard yesterday. Her name is Rosalie, and-"

"Great. I feel so much better now, thanks."

"Bella... listen to me. I didn't want you to see her so that it would upset you. I promise there's nothing to be upset over."

"Is she the one? That you thought was special?"

"That I was wrong about? Yes. She's the one."

"But you were with her yesterday."

"No, we were in the same place. At the hospital. Where I stepped outside of to have a smoke and call you."

"She's still close with your family?"

"She's my brother's wife."

"Your brother's... "

"He's on the other side of her in the photograph."

"But it looks like she's with _you_."

"She was then. But not _only_."

I see it before he says it. The way her other hand is on his brother's leg. Something he may have looked at the photograph a hundred times and not noticed.

"Do you see-"

"Yes. I'm sorry... "

"Don't be sorry, Bella. I'm not. About that. I'm just sorry that you spent a night worrying about it. Because of a voice."

"That's my fault. I should have just asked you who she was."

"Yes, you should have."

"Can I ask you something else? Now?"

"If it's something that's on your mind, then yes, I _insist_ that you do."

"Why did you cover the phone? When you spoke to her?"

"Because what I said to her when she interrupted our conversation wasn't kind. And I wasn't trying to hide that from you, but I didn't think that you needed to hear it. And didn't want you to. Because your ears will never hear anything like that from me."

"Did seeing her-"

"Irritate me? Yes."

"That wasn't what I was going to ask."

"Did it bring back feelings? Is that your question?"

"Yes."

"No. Not for her. Those are long dead."

"Not for her?"

"Yes, not for her. Only for you. And not _back_, because they certainly never left for a second... but seeing her made them even clearer than they already were. Though I wouldn't have thought that that was possible."

"You wouldn't have?"

"No, I wouldn't have."

"I came to your house and got into your bed because I needed you."

"I know. It's why I gave you the key. In case you did."

"In case?"

"_When_."

"So, you're not upset that I did?"

"There's my stunningly beautiful woman asking silly questions again."

"Can I take that as a no?"

"Yes, you can. A hell no, actually. And Bella... please... don't worry about her. Don't even think about her, not for another second, because that woman in that photograph also climbed into my bed when I wasn't there, but she took someone with her. That was what I went home to. That was what I found waiting for me.

"But the woman I want... the woman I wish I'd been with yesterday... the woman I wish I was with now... the woman that I will never be wrong about... could never be... is the one who seeks comfort in it alone. _Because _I'm not there. And because she wishes I was."

"I do. And found comfort, Edward. _Found_."

Stunningly beautiful comfort.

**…**

**…**

"Please don't slam the door in my face!"

"Have I ever done that?"

"No. But I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to now."

"That's good. That you wouldn't blame me. Now, would you like to come in?"

"Yes, please."

I step aside and gesture her in. And what she's brought with her... her guilt.

That she wastes no time in expressing, though she doesn't need to because she wears it like a full body suit. "I'm sorry about yesterday. The childish way I acted. The things I said... and did... which I'm sure you know about... so I doubt is really necessary for me to confess to you... "

"I do. And you're right... a confession is completely _un_necessary."

"I'm sorry, Bella. So sorry... I'll call him... again... I'll fix it, I swear I will."

"There's nothing to fix, Alice."

"Nothing to fix? But... No, please don't say that. Oh, God, what have I done? I... no! _No_. I don't accept _nothing_. It's something! You and Edward have _something_! And I _will _fix it! I'll go to the airport right now... and get on the first flight to Chicago-"

"Alice! Stop!" I yell, as she heads back towards the door.

But she doesn't stop, yelling back to me over her shoulder, "No, Bella! I can't! I ruined everything for you! And I have to fix it! I have to-"

I rush out the door behind her, in my bare feet, and grab her arm before she can get any further. And, for the second day in a row, find myself standing in the pouring rain. That I definitely know is. And freezing. "Damn it, Alice, _stop_! And shut up! And listen to me! Not _nothing _to fix, just nothing that _needs _fixing. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"

"No? I mean, I _heard _you, but I don't understand."

Seriously... _freezing_. "Pay attention... " I order through soon-to-be-chattering teeth. "You didn't ruin anything for me. There's nothing to fix because Edward and I are _fine_. Better than fine. Okay? Do you understand now?"

"Nothing to fix?"

"Nothing."

"_Fine_? Really?"

"Better than. Really."

"You really, really are?"

"Yes, we really, really are."

"He didn't... "

"No. Whatever you thought he did, or thought he _would _do, he didn't."

"What _did _he do?"

"He called... expressed his _displeasure_, and gave me a chance to explain. An explanation that he understood, and accepted, along with my apology. That after accepting, he even took responsibility for. _Which_, even though I don't agree with that - that he was responsible for the pitiful state Jasper found me in yesterday - I didn't argue with much effort at all. Because he was letting us move past it. Pulling me past it. To better. Because he's the most generous and understanding man I've ever known."

"Just one more reason why you're perfect for each other. The two _most _perfect for each other people in the world."

"I don't know, Alice... I'm pretty sure that title already belongs to someone. Well... _two _someones."

"Thank you, Bella. For believing that. And for _my _generous and understanding man, who is probably going to show up here any minute to check on his two favorite girls. Because I don't think he really trusts the one he married not to screw this up."

"You're welcome. For both. And I think you're wrong about that, but for God's sake, let's get out of this rain! I'm f-freezing!"

"Me too! We're both soaked this time!"

"Edward has a way of doing that to a girl... " I laugh, as we run into the house.

"Even when he's miles away, bless his heart. Definitely a keeper... " She gives me a mischievous smile and then wiggles her tongue, and I sigh wistfully, remembering the last time she said those words - and why - to _him_... in my garage...

_Definitely _a keeper_.._. "I'm going to try, Alice, believe me I am."

"You don't have to try, Bella. Just be _you_. A real man would never want more than that. And would never leave it. Unless he was given no choice."

I smile, knowing her words are heartfelt, the ones about me... and that she just couldn't help herself from saying the others, that were about _us_... the two people that she loves, who once loved each other... or _still _do... _one _of... as I pull her down the hallway to my bedroom.

I grab two towels from the bathroom cabinet on the way, and once in my room, toss them on the bed and go to my dresser. I pull the infamous Seahawks t-shirt from a drawer and toss it to her. "Put that on, for starters. And _keep_ it. Edward hates it, or the _team_, anyway... The last time I wore it he ripped it off of me and threw it on the floor."

"Oooh, do tell!" she squeals, taking off her rain-soaked blouse.

"No... " I say, taking off my own, "It wasn't like that. At. All. I wasn't even wearing a bra under it at the time and he didn't so much as look at me. Just took it off and tossed it to the floor and replaced it with his sweatshirt. His _Bears _sweatshirt."

"Men and their sports," she laughs, rolling her eyes, "Not even tits can compete."

"Well, sure as hell not _mine_," I laugh back, though it was anything but funny to me at the time.

"Honey, we're in the same boat on _that _river. Thank God for generous men who like things that aren't."

"Amen. Now put on that shirt and cover your _aren'ts_ up before your husband walks in here and finds us wet and half naked and gets the wrong idea."

I wiggle my brows playfully at her sudden frown and she smiles. And lets out a loud "Ha! I'm pretty sure _that _is his greatest fantasy!"

"Alice! It is not! Shame on you!"

"It soooo is, Bella... with him smack dab in the middle."

"Stop that! He would never!"

"Yes he would. But _you _wouldn't, so I try not to let it bother me too much. Usually. And I really am sorry that I did yesterday. And took it out on you...

"And I'm happier than you could possibly know that you and Edward are okay. _Better_ than okay... even though I did... but I still have to ask...

"Are _we_? After everything I did? And said?"

No matter what else she thinks she knows, she wouldn't ask _that _unless she truly didn't. And I hurt for her for both, what she does and doesn't...

And, like Edward didn't with me, I won't punish her for how helpless her hurt made her. Helpless in a different way than I was.

Because we're different, too.

Her and I.

I gave in to my helpless. Let it consume me...

She fought hers. Didn't keep it inside. Something she'd done and felt for too long.

"Of course we are, Alice. We'll always be okay. Better than okay," _I hope... _"Because you and Jasper... and Edward and I - that I know you really do believe are - aren't the _only _people who are perfect for each other."

"Oh, Bella... " She has tears in her eyes now, and a beaming smile on her face, which turns suddenly into a giggle, because we hear the front door and what it was all for...

One of the whats...

_Who_s...

"Hello? Where are my two favorite girls at?"

"In here!" she calls, grasping my hand in hers, "But stay where you are! _We _have it under control today!"

**xx**

**I just wanted to say a few things before I leave you... **

**To those of you who wanted Edward to be Bella's next victim after the last chapter... SHAME ON YOU! Tell him you're sorry! You're bad girls! Somethings that Bella (well... ) and Alice are _not_. Don't anyone go getting the wrong idea. Not that it is wrong... just in this story. **

**But if you like that sort of thing... 'bad' girls (who are sweet, actually)... I have a rec for you. It's called Two Girls, One Heart. It's written by hisgirlinterrupted (who also wrote a yummy Edward and Bella O/S if that's more your thing). She's a friend of mine (and also sweet), and pretty new around here, so be sweet and go introduce yourselves. Because new can be lonely. Kind of like this story... that isn't new at all, but... **

**Oh well... I love those of you who know that. And who are still here even though I've kept you waiting lately. Sorry I haven't had time to tell you that in a while, but I do.**

**Really.**

**xo**


	20. Chapter 20: My Mother's Child

**Chapter Nineteen: My Mother's Child**

Jasper didn't stay long. Just long enough to see that his girls did indeed have things under control.

And then he left.

And we followed not long after.

Alice wanted to do some shopping.

It was what she said...

But I think it was really just an excuse to drag me out of the house.

To get my mind off of Edward being gone...

It didn't work.

The absence of him is everywhere.

In the silence.

In the noise.

In every drop of rain.

In the cold air that accompanies it.

And the gloom.

In the sun that tries - but fails miserably - to peek through it all.

Like me.

I'm trying. Remind myself constantly that it wasn't me he left. That he just had somewhere he needed to be. Something else he needed to take care of. Someone else who needed him...

I'm trying.

Telling myself over and over and over again that we're fine. Better than fine. Just like I told Alice.

Really trying...

But like the sun, I'm failing miserably.

To peek through the gloom that has settled its relentless self on my heart.

And my mind that can't form a clear, untortured thought.

Or my eyes, that can't seem to find a clear path in front of me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

The little girl I just nearly knocked down looks up at me with strangely familiar eyes. "That's okay. I bump into stuff all the time. And people. My dad says I get it from my mom. He says our heads are always in the clouds and our feet get confused without them."

"Well, maybe that's what happened to me when I bumped into you," I tell her, unable to take my eyes from her face.

"Probably," she says with a confident nod of her head.

"Alexandra!" a woman calls out suddenly, sending an eerie chill through me. "Where are you, baby?"

"Coming!" the little girl calls back and then smiles at me. "That's my mom. I was supposed to stay where she could see me, but the book I wanted was over here where she couldn't."

She holds it up as she tells me this. It's one of mine.

And I'm just about to tell her that, and ask her if she'd like me to write something in it for her, when the woman's voice calls out again, taking mine from me. "Alexandra! Hurry, baby, Daddy's waiting for us!"

"I have to go now! Bye!" the little girl says, and runs off with a wave.

But I don't want her to go.

Her, who I follow.

Her, with the eyes and the face I know.

Don't want the calling voice silenced. The one I haven't heard in so long.

The one that never said goodbye to me.

My mother.

Who takes my breath from my lungs as she stands just feet away from me.

While I stare.

Unable to take another step.

Unable to utter a sound.

As she pulls the little girl into a hug. "There you are! You scared me."

"Sorry, Mom. I was just getting my book. You said I could have a new one."

The little girl who is my little sister.

Who she looks at in a way she never looked at me.

I know because I'd remember a look like that.

From her.

A look that says 'I love you more than anything in the world'.

Much different than any I ever saw from her.

Me.

The child she didn't.

The child she left.

The child that grew into the woman that she walks past now, her daughter's hand clutched firmly and protectively in hers.

Her other daughter.

The one she'll never leave.

And the one whose face she'd never walk past and not recognize.

Never in a million years, no matter how many it had been since she'd seen it.

She didn't recognize me.

The child who had her father's face instead of hers.

The face she turned her eyes from and her back on.

The face she didn't care to ever see again.

The one she doesn't see in the little one she loves.

The new one.

The one she wants.

The one that isn't mine.

The daughter that isn't me.

**…**

**…**

I followed them out of the bookstore.

I couldn't help it.

And watched as they rushed with smiling faces into the arms of a man waiting outside of a restaurant half a block down.

Mother, father, and child.

A family.

Happy.

Something ours never was...

Though I didn't know it until she was gone.

Until whatever we were was shattered with the close of a door.

One I didn't hear.

Or see.

Or understand would never open again.

I didn't understand at all.

And I waited every day for her to come back.

Come home.

I waited and waited and waited...

For something I'd never get.

Waited until the understanding was stronger than the hope.

Not that I did understand...

I never did.

And I never will.

The why...

And the how...

But I understood the what.

She left us.

Her husband and her child.

And she wasn't coming back to us.

Because she didn't want to.

The leaving was all she wanted.

I thought it was too much for her...

The husband and the child.

It's what I told myself.

That being a mother and a wife was simply a chapter of a story she had never meant to write for herself.

Wasn't a part of the life she dreamed of.

Her... the girl who fell in love too young. Got pregnant. And married. And lost...

I told myself she had to go. Had to leave us. To find her lost self.

I tried to understand.

To not hate her for it.

But that was a long time ago.

When my heart was still capable of forgiveness.

It's not anymore.

And it doesn't.

I _don't _forgive her.

And I can't not hate her now.

For leaving us.

To find herself.

And a new life just like the one she already had.

The one she threw away.

The ones...

Mine and my dad's.

Me and him.

The husband and the child that just weren't good enough.

The husband and the child she said goodbye to...

When she didn't.

**…**

**…**

"Bella? What's wrong?"

"What?"

"What's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

No... not a ghost. She was real. _They _were real. "Nothing." Exactly what I was to her.

"I know you better than that, Bella. Something's wrong."

Me. _I'm _wrong. Don't you see it? You must see it...

She saw it.

And him.

They couldn't see anything else.

Anything that made them want to stay. Or come back.

Not when it mattered.

Not when I still had hope.

Not when I was still waiting.

Like I am now.

For Edward.

Whose voice I need to hear.

Now.

Today.

And tomorrow.

And every day for as long as I can.

I pull my phone out of my bag and my heart falls. It's dead.

"Bella?"

"I'm fine, Alice. But do you mind if I back out of our dinner plans? I'm not really hungry, and there are some things I need to take care of-"

"I found you standing in front of the restaurant looking like you were about to pass out. If you're not hungry, then why? Did you see someone or something that upset you?"

Yes, I saw the life I should have had."No, nothing. Well, until now. I forgot to charge my phone. I-"

"Feel disconnected from him. Say no more. Come on, I'll drop you home... _if _you promise to eat something as soon as you're hungry. And relax as soon as you take care of whatever it is that you need to take care of. You really do look pale. I hope you're not getting sick again-"

"The only thing sick is my heart. But the cure for that is just a charger away. So, don't worry. And I will eat, as soon as I'm hungry, and relax while I do it. I promise."

"Do you need any help? With your 'need to take care ofs'? I could stick around and-"

"No... "

The only one who can help me this time is me.

**…**

**…**

I called Edward as soon as I got home and plugged in my phone, desperate to hear his voice.

Desperation that wasn't soothed or calmed when my call went straight to his voicemail.

My message was short and to the point: _I need you._

Because I did. And do more and more with every second that passes that I know he won't call back.

He'd tried to call me, too. And left a longer message than the one I left him.

He said he hoped that I was alright, and just in the shower or taking a nap. And that he couldn't get me off of his mind. And that he couldn't wait to have me someplace else.

It made me smile.

But then the smile fell, because he said he'd be unavailable for a few hours and that he'd talk to me as soon as he could.

I missed his call by mere minutes...

And I hate myself for it.

For forgetting to do such a simple thing.

And robbing myself of something I need that isn't.

Edward Cullen isn't simple.

He's the most complicated person I've ever had in my life.

But he _wants _to be in it.

And I want him to... more than I've ever wanted anything.

Or anyone.

More than the little girl I once was wanted her mother. Or her father, who left me after.

He was there...

I could see him...

But see him was all I could do.

All that told me I wasn't alone.

All that told me my father existed in my life at all after she left.

Her...

The woman he loved more than the child he was left with.

And probably left _for_.

The woman he waited for to come back.

Come home.

Longer than I did.

So much longer...

He's _still _waiting for her.

With what's left of his heart.

And his mind...

I wasted a year waiting for my abandoner.

The second one.

365 days.

My father wasted his life waiting for his.

And mine.

Thousands of days...

For nothing.

What he was left with.

What else.

He was left with _me_...

The daughter he didn't see.

He could...

But he didn't.

Didn't recognize me, even when I was right in front of him.

Like she didn't today.

The daughter I was didn't exist.

Still doesn't...

To either of them.

The life they created wasn't the one they wanted.

And I was left to live it alone.

Something I don't want to be anymore.

Ever again.

**…**

**…**

I fed Figaro his dinner and ran out of the house.

Said goodbye before I did.

Gave him a kiss.

And a hug that he tried to squirm out of.

And promised I'd be back.

Because I will.

After I get rid of what could take me from him.

I don't know why I've waited so long...

But I'm not waiting anymore.

For that ax to fall.

And destroy the life I've found.

The box is on the seat of my truck beside me.

I'm taking it away.

To a place I never dreamed I'd go back to.

Before it takes me to another. A place I've never been, and never want to go or know.

I'm taking it home.

Where nothing that's left behind is ever found again.

**…**

**…**

Edward still hasn't called by the time I get to the house I grew up in.

It's been over three hours.

And the silence is becoming unbearable.

It's eating at me. From the inside out.

Or maybe something else is...

But I can't let it take over.

It or the something else.

I came here for a reason.

To the place where I was robbed of a happy life...

So that I could give myself a chance at one.

If it's not too late.

The house is dark, but for one lonely light.

Lonely like the man inside.

I peek in the window, knowing what I'll see through the glass, but needing to be sure...

My father is passed out on the couch, lulled into his drunken sleep by the empty bottle still clasped in his hand.

His favorite bedtime story.

His only.

Nothing has changed here.

Though I knew that before I came.

He's oblivious to my presence, just like he's been for the last twenty one years.

Nothing has changed at all.

Nothing but me...

Who turns her back on the wasted life before her.

The one I left ten years ago.

The day I turned eighteen.

The day he watched Jasper carry box after box of my things through the front door without a word.

He never even asked where I was going.

Where he was taking me.

Like the hundred other times he hadn't.

It didn't even matter to him that I wasn't coming back that day.

Or maybe it did...

Maybe he'd been waiting for just that. For me to go away.

Maybe he thought she'd come back to him if I was gone.

Maybe that's why he said goodbye...

Yelled it as I was pulling out of the drive.

Because he wanted me to hear it.

The sound of it.

And the meaning.

That I hear the echo of as I take the shovel from the back of my truck. Feel the vibration of as I carry my box of secrets into the woods behind the house.

_Goodbye..._

Feel the freedom of as I break the surface of the cold, hard earth.

Feel the weight lift off of me with every new depth reached.

Is this what it felt like to him? Watching me back away...

Did it set him free? Free to bury himself deeper in his misery? In his pathetic hope that she might return to him?

If it had been her who came back tonight instead of me would he have heard her? Felt her presence? Woken from his drunken slumber and...

And what?

_What _is he waiting for? _What _was I?

An answer?

An explanation?

An I'm sorry?

Didn't we already have them?

Didn't their movements scream them at us?

That we weren't worth any?

His screamed them at me.

My father's.

The ones he didn't make when I needed him to.

And the ones he does now...

When I don't.

"Isabella?"

_Isabella? _He never called me that. Ever. Only she did.

And it makes me angry to hear it.

That he broke his silence with it.

So I say nothing.

And continue my task...

Burying my ugly secrets.

And leaving them to die.

So I can live.

Because, as much as she didn't want me...

I am my mother's child.

xx

**I kept you waiting all of this time for _this_? Yeah... looks that way. Shoot me.**

**And for those of you waiting for For Better or For Worse, it's coming. I swear it is. Soon.**


	21. Chapter 21: Blinded

**Chapter Twenty One: Blinded**

"Isabella?"

_Again? _"Don't call me that."

"It's your name... "

"That you're only saying because you want to hear it. Repeating because it's the only way you will. Ever again. But it doesn't sound the same. Not to my ears, and not to yours. So, just stop."

"I don't... What are you doing here? Out here?"

_You never did. _"Nothing. I'm not here."

"You're not here?"

"No."

"Then why can I see you and hear you?"

"You can't." _Just like you never could. After._

"What? Of course I can. And I do. You're standing right in front of me... "

"No, you _don't_. And I'm not. I'm _not _here. You're drunk, and just imagining that you see me. And hear me. But forget about both, because I'm leaving now. This place where I never was. Seen or heard. Or wanted."

"Isabella... I... That's... Are... are you ill?"

The laugh that comes out of me sounds foreign to my ears.

And to his.

Not that he knows what my laughter sounds like...

He doesn't.

Nor I his.

But I don't think it's supposed to sound like that...

That sound we both just heard.

That made him take a step back.

A step away from me.

His daughter that he doesn't recognize.

Because she isn't here.

And because who is doesn't want to be.

For another second.

So I turn and walk away.

Empty handed, except for the shovel I carry.

And keep walking until I get to my truck.

The one he gave me when I was sixteen years old.

Well...

He parked it outside of our house and left the key on my bed.

He never even taught me how to drive it.

And didn't say a word when I knocked down our mailbox trying to teach myself.

He just put it back up.

Like nothing bad had ever happened.

And that's why I brought my secrets here to bury.

Why I'm not afraid to leave them.

Because even if he found them...

Saw them...

Dug them up...

He'd pretend he didn't.

Pretend he hadn't.

Because he's only looking for one thing.

He's blind to everything else.

But what he's still waiting to see.

Who...

Her.

The thing I saw today.

That's no more than that to me.

A _thing_.

That I recognized but didn't.

The thing that's more than that to him, but that he'll never see again.

"Isabella... "

Or hear.

**…**

**…**

The light is flashing on my phone on the seat beside me when I climb back into my old truck.

And I know without picking it up and looking at it that I've missed him again.

But I do anyway.

Pick it up...

And look.

Because I do.

Miss him.

And because I still need to hear his voice.

And because I know he didn't leave me without it.

Not after what I left him.

My need.

Not hidden. Or buried. Or danced around while I tried to show him something else.

I put it right out there for him to see.

Or hear, anyway...

And he did.

It's clear in the sound of his first message...

_Damn it, Bella, why aren't you answering your phone? I've called you three times. You can't tell me you need me and then shut the door again. You have to let me in. And give me the time to get there so I can... _

_Just answer your phone, Bella. Please._

And his second.

And his third.

Which were variations of the first. And something else...

Variations of desperation.

Because he knew I couldn't hear him...

And because he couldn't hear me.

Which I believe he needed just as much as I did.

At that moment.

And I hope at this one.

When I call him back without listening to any more messages that I know are waiting for me.

To let him know that I'm still waiting for him. That I didn't close the door.

While the wind rattles the ones around me.

On my way back to others.

Mine.

And his...

That he left me the key to.

That's weight I feel against my chest.

Because I put it on a chain around my neck.

So he'd be closer to my heart...

My heart that breaks when I get his voicemail again.

Instead of what I need.

Him.

**…**

**…**

I couldn't wait to get to my front door.

After I parked my truck behind my other.

And closed it...

With my secrets outside of it instead of in.

But even though I couldn't, I didn't go...

In...

My front door or Edward's.

Because he wasn't behind either.

And I couldn't bear to see him not.

At least not yet.

And I got into my car instead.

Just me and my phone... that I would answer the next time it rang.

I wouldn't miss him again.

Because I do too much.

But forget I do...

Forget the too much...

And the more...

When I see something that makes me something else.

Blinds me to the rest.

The man I saw today outside of that restaurant...

Walking out of another with a woman who isn't his wife.

My mother.

Who waits for him somewhere...

While he's here.

Living a different life.

A secret one.

That I know is because he looks around to make sure he isn't being seen.

Before he kisses her.

The woman who he shouldn't.

The woman he doesn't want to be seen with because he _knows _he shouldn't.

Because he knows it's wrong.

The thing he does anyway.

The thing he thinks he's getting away with.

Because he doesn't see me.

Know that I'm watching him.

That I'm not blind to what he's doing.

This man who is living the life my father didn't get to.

This man who wants to live another.

Or maybe he just wants to live _two_.

Because he's greedy.

And selfish.

And if you ask me...

Doesn't deserve to live any.

**…**

**…**

I wasn't angry because he was betraying my mother.

As far as I'm concerned, she deserves whatever misery finds her in her new life.

But my little sister...

She deserves better.

Better than the life that was taken from me.

And better than the one that she's been given.

The same one.

And not at all.

Her father should have been at home tucking her into her bed.

Checking for monsters beneath it.

And reading her stories that would keep them away.

He should have been where she could see him.

Hear him.

His silence or his noise.

They should both have belonged to her.

His daughter.

His little girl.

She should have been the center of his world.

Instead of some home-wrecking whore.

And I told him that.

After the whore got into her car and left.

After she pleaded with him to come to her hotel room.

After he looked at his watch...

And said okay.

That he had time...

If it was quick.

After he was _wrong_.

Wrong about it all.

He thought no one could see him.

What he was doing.

Or hear.

What he was going to.

But I had.

After someone else had.

Something, anyway.

His tire was flat when he got to his car.

The knife that flattened it still stuck in the side of it.

His dirty secret wasn't secret at all.

Someone knew.

Someone besides me.

Someone I saw watching.

Like I had been, before I wasn't just.

I didn't see her until after...

Until her shame had been spilled all over my hands.

And she knew it would never come home to her.

She was staring at me in horror.

And _alone_.

My little sister had been left alone.

Because I was wrong, too...

She didn't love her more than anything in the world.

She wouldn't have left her alone if she did.

She wouldn't have left her at all.

Even my father didn't leave...

After she did.

The first time she did...

Left a child.

He wasn't there, but he wasn't gone, either.

He stayed.

When his life left him.

He didn't follow.

He could have...

Or tried to...

But he didn't.

Didn't leave his little girl alone.

And no matter what I feel for him...

My father, who wasn't much of one at all...

I know in this moment that he's better than she is.

And that I had better than that little girl who lies alone in her bed.

Where no mother or father will ever come to check for monsters beneath again.

Because they _were _the monsters.

Her mother and father.

Who didn't tell her goodbye.

Because they only cared about where they were going.

And what they were going to find.

The secrets...

That killed them.

Well...

"Goodbye, Mother."

That have now.

**…**

**…**

I left the knife in my mother's throat.

The one she gave me when she made sure her husband couldn't leave her.

Before she could give me something else.

Anything else.

But her recognition.

That was clear on her face.

Right before...

I didn't give her a chance to say anything.

I didn't want to hear it.

I'd already heard too much today.

Too much and not nearly enough.

The second of which I'm reminded of as soon as I get back into my car and see my phone on the seat.

That's not flashing this time.

**…**

**…**

I started a fire as soon as I got home.

And, this time, threw my gloves straight into it.

The ones with the evidence of what I'd done.

The dirt that covered the first... _firsts_.

And the blood that caked it all.

It's all over me.

And my car.

Except for the seat that I covered with something else before I got into it.

Because I didn't want to get it dirty.

My car that I pulled into my garage next to my truck.

A place I don't usually put it.

A place where I go back to now.

So I can take it out.

Because I don't want the old and the new together.

The past and the present.

They don't belong in the same place.

My place.

Where only the new is welcome now.

Or needed.

**…**

**…**

My car is clean. It wasn't as bad as I thought.

It was easy.

Like the way the blade moved in my hand.

Danced...

For the last time, I think.

I don't feel the clawing anymore.

Don't hear it.

Anything.

But the beat of my own heart.

I park my car back in my driveway where I always have, and go back into the house.

My house where there's life.

Sweet, innocent life.

Waiting for me.

Like another somewhere that waits for someone else.

Someones.

Who will never come back to her.

Because of me.

Her sister, who she doesn't know is.

Will never know.

But who had no choice but to take them from her.

They didn't deserve her.

And she didn't deserve what they would have done to her, if I hadn't.

And I know I've done something else...

Something that will hurt her...

For a while...

But I did it so that they couldn't hurt her forever.

So they wouldn't have the chance to break her. Her spirit. Or her heart.

When she realized that she wasn't the most important thing. To either of them.

I chased the monsters from under her bed.

And her life.

And made sure they'd never return.

I gave my little sister a chance.

When I took theirs away.

**…**

**…**

Edward still hasn't called back by the time I step out of the shower.

But I'm not panicking.

Not because I don't need him, I do...

But because my need is less desperate now.

Or different, anyway.

I was afraid before...

Afraid he wasn't coming back.

And afraid of what would if he didn't.

The sadness... that would have surpassed any that I'd ever felt.

And the other thing...

That was already here, I suppose, but that he had kept away. Because he kept himself closer.

And because I let him.

Or let him make me...

I know I failed today.

Let him...

Because I let it get too close.

That other thing.

Let it take over.

But it's not the same thing.

Doesn't feel the same.

Didn't.

I set myself free.

Let him help me.

And her.

The little girl he doesn't know he did.

And the one I think he does.

Because he's taught me how to have hope.

The little girl that isn't anymore.

I _hope_.

Something I was already trying to learn to do, give myself, but that he wrapped up in a box and tied a ribbon around and put in my hands. When he gave me his key, that's again on that chain around my neck. And his promises, that I believe in. Because to not would be...

Something else I'm not anymore.

Because I'm worth something.

Something better than the nothing I've been given most of my life.

And left with.

Edward did leave...

But he made sure that I had something to hold on to before he did.

Something solid.

And something that isn't but that will be when he comes back.

A promise kept.

Because I believe that he will.

Keep it. And me.

In this place where no more monsters will ever be.

**…**

**…**

I didn't try to wash the clothes.

Or the blanket.

I didn't want them.

Or need them.

Didn't need to keep them...

Or what they represented.

I won't make that mistake again.

Won't keep the threat of it close.

For him to find.

I won't let my dreams be nightmares.

Not anymore.

Just like I didn't before...

I think about my sister sleeping in her bed as I carry the bag to the trash.

And wonder what kind of things are going on in her head as she dreams.

If she does.

Or is...

Now...

Does she dream of magical places?

Like the ones in the book she held in her hand today?

The ones I created?

Like the one I tried to create today?

But different...

Am I keeping the nightmares away from her?

Or is she yet to have any?

I don't want to be the cause of them.

I'd never hurt her...

The child I wanted only to protect.

I love her.

That little part of me.

That's not so little.

It's half.

_She's _half.

Half mine.

And from.

The half that's nothing.

Anymore.

The half that I just threw away.

So it can be taken in the morning.

And we can be free.

My little half and me.

**…**

**…**

There's light coming towards me.

While I stand here in the dark.

Lights...

Coming closer with every second that passes.

_Headlights_...

Coming down my street.

_Our _street.

Edward's and mine.

And maybe I should be worried...

Or afraid...

Because of what I did...

But I'm not.

Because it's probably only Alice.

Coming to check on me.

Because she's afraid of what I might be doing now.

Alone.

But the closer they get, I know it's not.

Not her.

Because they're too high.

The lights.

And my hopes.

That get higher and higher and higher as the lights get brighter.

Because still they come closer.

Don't stop coming until they blind me.

And then stop.

Flooding the space around me.

_My _space.

That isn't anymore.

Because Edward has come back to claim it.

And does.

Me...

Everything.

Faster than he did the first time.

"I was on my way, Bella... I couldn't stay away from you anymore. Not a single fucking second longer than I already had.

"I was coming... to you... it's why I was unavailable. And I didn't tell you that... the why... because I wanted to surprise you...

"And maybe because I was selfish... though, on my life, I wasn't trying to be... will _never_ be with you. Never again.

"Like I was... couldn't help but be... because I wanted to see the look on your face when I did... come back... a look that I knew would put me on my knees... the one I see now...

"But fuck, if you didn't before I could even get here... put me on my knees...

"You stunningly beautiful woman... with your stunningly beautiful need for me... that you didn't hide. Didn't even try to... and still aren't.

"You scared me to death, Bella. Put me on my knees with _fear_. Because I didn't know what I'd come back and find. What I _had_ to come back to find because I'd left."

"It's just me," I whisper as he crushes me against him. Into him...

As if he wants to pull me right into his heart...

Tuck me in...

And keep me there forever.

"Needy, needy me... "

"I see that," he says, cupping my face in his hands. His hands that I feel the fear in. That hold my face that's more bare than it's ever been before.

Something I know he knows as he sweeps his thumbs over my cheeks.

"And feel it," he adds, because my hold on him is fierce. And just as bare.

Greedy. Desperate and unrelenting.

Trembling with all of it.

But not at all ashamed that it is. Or apologetic.

It's neither.

_I'm_ neither.

"I want you to," I say, because I do. Want him to see and feel it all. Everything I've let go of so that I could hold on. Be strong enough to.

"That's more than I could have dreamed of, Bella."

_Me too, Edward... _"But not all I have. To give you. If you want-"

My needy declaration dissolves...

Unspoken...

And unfinished...

Because I do.

Dissolve...

Into his mouth.

And his arms.

As he lifts me into both.

And carries me away from the blinding light.

Into a softer one.

His truck is still running behind us.

The door still open...

His door...

As I'm whisked through mine.

And then my next.

The one he knows he was invited past.

Finally...

And into the space that waited for him to claim.

That I did.

With beautiful, blinding hope.

**xx**

**I know she's batshit crazy. Which probably means that I am... but I knew that a long time ago. And I love me anyway, though I don't have an Edward that does. Or _who_ does... whatever. Either way, poor me.**

**And, like Edward does, I love _her_. But as for how much he does (and I know he hasn't told her yet. With words, anyway... ) ... or how much he's currently in that claimed space of hers showing her he does... if I decide to let you see it... it'll be on the next one. Or _in_. Whichever. And maybe you can even help me with my decision... you know... if you want. **

**And just one more thing... this little baby celebrated its 1st birthday a few days ago. I'm both proud and ashamed of that. Proud because, no matter how unloved it is, it's not at all by me. I love it and them desperately. And ashamed because it shouldn't have taken me a year to get it to where it is. Though it hasn't really been entirely my fault, especially in recent months, it still disappoints me. So, thank you to anyone that's been here with us that long. And anyone who's here now, no matter how long ago you came.**

**Like he did. Back to her. Right up there. GAH!**


	22. Chapter 22: Instincts

**Chapter Twenty Two: Instincts**

"Say it again," he orders, his hands making me feel every second of desperation he felt after the first time I said it.

"I need you," I declare with shameless compliance, because I'll give him anything he wants.

Anything...

Which I know at this moment is only _me_.

Bare, needy me.

Bare because of him, who stripped me of my clothes as fast as his fingers could move.

His fingers that now hold his key as it lays revealed against my skin. "I'm sorry I left you, Bella. And thought that leaving you with this would be enough."

"It's more than anyone else ever left me with," I tell him, not caring that I shouldn't.

"That doesn't make it okay."

"But you came back, and that does."

"Don't make it too easy for me, Bella. I'm prepared to do the work."

"So says your mouth."

"Is that a challenge, Miss Swan?"

"Did it sound like one?"

"It absolutely did."

"Well, then by all means you should trust your instincts, _Agent _Cullen."

"Remember those words, Bella... when you're begging me to have mercy on you."

His words give me a frightening glimpse into the future...

A different one than he meant.

The one that might be mine if he ever bares my everything...

Reveals the mercy that _I _didn't have...

But I push it away and focus on the here and now...

Watch him as he unbuttons his shirt, takes it off and throws it to the floor, all the while his eyes not leaving mine.

And still not as he moves to his belt...

That my eyes can't help but flash to as he unholsters his gun from it.

_His_ gun.

His gun that they follow as he lays it on the nightstand.

_My _nightstand. In _my _house. Where I tossed _my _bloody gloves to burn in _my _fireplace.

Did they?

Did the flames rise high enough and burn strong enough and long enough to destroy them?

Or do they lie there waiting to destroy me?

Like his gun beside me if...

If...

No...

I can't think about if.

Not now.

Not after he came back to me.

And after something else left me.

I can't.

I...

"Bella?"

"No... "

"Hey... " He's hovering over me suddenly, my chin cupped in his hand, and my fear in clear view, while his gun is no longer in mine. "You're not afraid of me, are you? Or that?" he asks softly, gesturing towards the hard steel.

"No. I... I'm sorry... I don't know what's wrong with me."

He lets out a heavy breath, and anger settles over every feature of his face. "Well, I think I do. And I'm sorry. Again... Fuck! I'm such an asshole!"

He's off of the bed - and his hands off of me - so quickly that I feel like I've been slapped.

But I don't let its sting take my movement away. I fly up and crawl to the edge of the bed. "What are you doing? Please don't leave again. I can't-"

"Leave? Bella, I'm not leaving. It's the last thing in the world I'd do. And what I did is the last thing I should have. I-"

"What you did? I don't understand. Please come back. I want you... I want you so much... "

He comes back to me quickly, but with the clothes he ripped off of me just moments ago in his hands, ignoring my pathetic pleading for him, and putting them on me as frantically as he took them off.

"I'm beyond honored that you do... but I had no right to assume. After what I did... no right at all to storm in here with you in my arms and expect you to give me anything. Or want anything from me but to see me on my knees begging for your forgiveness. I had no right, Bella."

No right? How... "Well, I think you did. And I _do _want you, Edward. And loved that you wanted me so much that you stormed in here with me in your arms expecting me to give you something. Me, who - if I may point out - offered you absolutely no resistance when you did. _And _even issued you a challenge when-"

"But you said you needed me. And I even made you say it again. Heard, and _saw_ this time, the words come uninhibited from your lips... and still-"

"Still wanted me?"

"Yes. Enough to let it blind me to what you needed."

"I need _you_."

"I'm here. And I won't go anywhere again. Unless you order me away."

"I'll never do that, Edward. You here is what I want. And I mean _want _in every way there is to mean it."

"There's time, Bella. For all of those ways that there are... and for me to earn them back from you."

"What if there's not? What if tonight is all we have?" I ask, because I can't not. Because the truth of it is too real to deny. Too damaging to try to hide.

"There _is_. And tonight isn't all... because tonight isn't a lifetime. And _that_... is how long I'll work to earn the right to share mine with you. Though I don't, and won't dare, assume that you want to. I-"

"A lifetime?" I ask, because _again_... but not at all... "_Your _lifetime? You want... to... _me_... you... "

"Well, there's a preposition or two missing from that, my stunningly beautiful writer-girl, but yes. I do."

"And my bullshit detector doesn't need new batteries? It's supposed to be this quiet?"

"It will never make another sound, Bella. Not as long as you can hear _me_."

"I like hearing you."

"That's good, because I owe you some talking."

"You do."

"And I promise you'll get it. You'll get it all... "

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"I want it all _now_."

He opens his mouth, but his eyes warn me of its protest, so I put my fingers to his lips. "Please?"

His lips that pucker adorably against them, before he reaches up and pulls them away. "You never have to say that to me."

"I know I'm pathetic, I-"

"And you better never say _that _to me again."

"Then tell me what I can... what will make you say yes... have mercy on me... Because this is me begging you to... _needing _you to... "

It's his fingers at my lips now...

My protest silenced.

My pathetic pleading hushed.

And mercy promised as he rests his forehead against mine. "I missed you, Bella. And the things you say. Don't fight to hold in anymore. Let just pour out... I was lost without your crazy beautiful mouth."

I reach up for his hand this time, and he lets me pull it free. "_Crazy, beautiful _or _crazy beautiful_?" I ask him, because there's a difference, and I want to know which he meant.

"Which did you hear?" he asks, a crazy beautiful smile spreading across his face.

"I heard _crazy beautiful_," I answer, because I did, and desperately want it to be the way he meant it.

"Then by all means, you should trust your instincts, Bella. And your _ears_."

"My ears weren't just hearing what I wanted them to?"

"No. They heard truth. Because you finally learned to let them."

"Truth has a nice sound."

"I couldn't agree more."

"I want you, Edward."

"I want you, too, Bella."

"Then show me." _Please show me..._

There's no protest in his hands - and none comes from his lips - as he cradles my face with both. Sweetly. Gently. With want that comes purely from something more. Something deeper.

Want that strips me bare again, to give me what I need.

This man wants to share his life with me. The whole of it. I know I heard _that_. Trust my ears with the sound of it, that was so much more than nice...

But the gun on the table that I refuse to look at... _his _gun... is a cold, hard reminder that we may not have that lifetime he wants to share with me.

Because of my crazy, but not so beautiful...

And the others... the pair of reminders I tried to destroy... but never checked to see if I had... they tell me that the lifetime he wants now could be nothing more than a night. This night.

And I want all of him that I can get. For as long as he'll give it to me. Himself. His whole. That he gives me now as his tongue slips into my mouth... wanted and welcomed... like the other part of him that slips slowly and gently inside of me. And he burrows deeper into my heart. Movements gentle and fierce all at once.

The burrowing is relentless. Shows no mercy. While the rest...

Dances with me... with tenderness and love.

Somethings he's shown me but hasn't said. And I pray now... plead... beg... silently... that my ears will hear that sound before this lifetime he wants with me comes to an end.

Because I don't need to hear goodbye anymore.

From anyone.

Never want to see or hear it again from him.

Never did.

There's only one thing I need to hear now.

Words that can heal me.

_Three_ words...

Instead of one.

**…**

**…**

"Bella!"

Jasper? What the...

"Bella, where are you?"

I jump from the bed as quickly as my body will move, which isn't quick at all, apparently, because Edward is zipping his pants before my feet even touch the floor.

"Stay here," he orders and rushes from my bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Where is she?"

"It's the middle of the fucking night, she's in bed. Why are you in her house?"

"Is she alright?"

"I asked you a fucking question, Whitlock."

"Your Tahoe is running outside with the door wide fucking open, and the lights on!"

"And that concerns you because?"

"Because she concerns me! And I want to see that she's alright! Bella!"

"I'm right here, Jasper," I say quietly as I walk into the hall. "And I'm fine."

Edward's hands are on me instantly, pulling me into his side. "I told you to stay in there," he says with irritation, that seems to dissolve a little as his eyes fall to his shirt, which I put on because I couldn't find where mine had been thrown.

"Well, I didn't want any blood in my hallway... "

"What happened?" Jasper asks impatiently, though I'm sure my appearance deems it unnecessary for him to.

"Nothing... " I answer, but then add to it, because it was far from. "Nothing bad, I mean. Nothing for you to worry about. Or bust in here for."

"The door wasn't locked," he says, in defense of his trespassing. "And Edward's truck outside-"

"Is none of your concern," Edward finishes for him. "_Why_ are you here? Shouldn't you be at home in bed with your wife? Instead of here, where you're _not_? And put that gun away, _Detective_."

"I'm here because there was a murder. A _double _murder, actually. Which is why I'm _not _in bed with my wife."

_Oh God..._

"And that has _what _to do with Bella?"

_Don't ask that question, Edward... You don't want to know the answer. And I don't want you to..._

But the way Jasper is staring at me tells me his answer isn't the one I fear before he says a word. "The victims... were a husband and wife... one of whom has a surprising connection to Bella."

"What connection?" Edward asks, his arm tightening around me.

"Bella... " Jasper says to me, instead of Edward. "The woman was your mother."

"I don't have a mother," I say, knowing that Jasper, of all people, will accept that response and not question the coldness of it.

"I know, sweetheart... but I thought that maybe you'd want to know that you have a _sister_."

_I do know... _"A sister."

"Yes. A little sister. She's seven years old, and just had her whole world turned upside down while she slept. Something I know you can understand... "

"I can."

"I know. And I know this is a lot to throw at you, and in the middle of the night, no less, but she doesn't have anyone else, Bella. She's a little girl who's all alone in the world now, except for-"

"No she's not."

"I was going to take her home... Alice and I have done it once or twice before... just for a night. We have a close friend who works for the Department of Human Services... and she's been assigned to the case... But we know who this little girl is... and-"

"You want to bring her here."

"Yes. Well, I thought that you might... It's up to you, honey. No one's forcing you... "

"No... I just didn't think... "

"You didn't think? You didn't think what?"

"What?"

"You said you just didn't think. What didn't you think, Bella?"

_Shit. _"I... I... um... "

"You want to give her a few minutes to digest it all, Whitlock? Instead of-"

"It's okay, Edward... " I just really _didn't _think... at all... "I just meant that I didn't think... when you said I had a sister... after you said her parents were murdered... "

"Of course, honey. I'm sorry. And I meant what I said... no one's forcing you. To-"

"No. Of course you can bring her here."

"Are you sure?"

I nod and look up at Edward, whose warm smile calms me instantly. "But I could use a few minutes... to... "

"Yeah," Jasper clears his throat uncomfortably, his eyes definitely taking in my appearance this time. And _Edward's_. "You probably want to change, or something... "

"Yeah, I should at least give Edward his shirt back since we have a guest coming... Another one, I mean."

"Well, I understand if you don't want to be alone with her, Bella, but-"

I know he's about to suggest that Edward leave, but whether he does or he doesn't will be Edward's choice, not his, and I cut him off before he can say the words out loud. And because a perfect reason to just rubbed against my leg.

"You don't know if she's allergic to cats, do you?" I ask him, picking Figaro up. "My mother - that wasn't -" _Yes, _that_, not who... _ "was allergic to cats."

"No, I don't know." He watches as Edward reaches up and scratches Figaro's head, and takes the opportunity to make his interrupted point. "But if she is, I'm sure Edward would be willing to take him home with him for a night... when he goes. Which-"

"Is _his _choice. _If _he does or not."

"I meant what I said, Bella," Edward says softly, before kissing the top of my head. "I'm not going anywhere again unless you order me away."

"I'm glad you did." _And pray you don't forget... _"Now, I'm going to go tidy things up, and myself, so that you can have your shirt back... because you really should be wearing one when you meet my little sister."

"Shouldn't you have said _we_?" Jasper asks, catching my mistake instantly.

"What?" I say, feigning confusion.

"You said when _you _meet my little sister. Instead of when _we_."

"Well, of course _I'll _have a shirt on, Jasper." _Please let it go..._

"Of course you will. And of course that's what you meant... "

_Just like that. _"You need some sleep," I tell him, "I make more sense to you when you're not so tired."

He smiles and I turn and rush back into the bedroom and close the door behind me, taking Figaro with me. Because a smile is what I want to remember seeing on Jasper's face. And because what put it there is something I didn't want to see on Edward's, whose shirt I take off quickly, and - after bringing it to my nose and inhaling deeply - open the door just enough to toss into the hallway to him.

Because I can still hear them in it.

A place I don't want them.

Because I want them outside.

So that I can check on something in.

Before I tidy everything up.

Something I'm reminded of as I trip on Edward's shoes on my floor.

Somethings he'll need to go where I want him to before he comes back to the place I do most.

Again.

So I open the door again and toss them outside of it with a thud.

And hear him laugh.

And then not.

"Change your mind, beautiful? Should I take these as an order?" he calls through the door.

"No to the first part, yes to the second!" I call back. "Go outside and turn off your truck! Because I want to see it sitting there because you _want_ it to be, not because it has to because it ran out of gas or the battery went dead!"

"Whatever you say, crazy beautiful," he calls back, though I can tell that he's right outside the door this time, and doesn't have to yell it.

And then it's quiet, and I find my shirt and put it on and rush from the room and to the fireplace.

Where someone is already crouching down in front of.

"I was just coming to do that," I say, surprised that I can say anything at all.

"It's okay, darlin, I got it."

_That's what I'm afraid of..._

_And what you'll do with it if you do... _

_Detective._

**xx**

**I know this may not have gone as far as some hoped it would, but it's my story, so...**

**Just like another is. One I'm told _really_ isn't. But, like that one, no one has to keep reading it if they don't like it. Or the how - or how much - of it I choose to give. But, if anyone's interested in knowing it, there's not a lot of this one left. I won't give an exact number of chapters, or time frame, but unless WYCYE or CFoW (most possibly) beat it to it, it will be the first of my WIPs to complete. That's what my instinct tells me, anyway, so...**

**See you next time. Or not.**


	23. Chapter 23: Getting Warmer

**Chapter Twenty Three: Getting Warmer**

"Maybe I shouldn't leave them here. She-"

"I think you should." Edward stops me before I can say any more, and gently pushes my hands back down to the bedside table. Because they just picked up the stack of books I had placed there. "She may not want to talk, or anyone to talk to her. This is a way that you can. And give her something she might need, without her having to ask for anything."

"But she might not want to read, either... "

"Then she doesn't have to. But the choice will be hers. And if there's any comfort to be found in escape, escape into a world you created, then I know you'd want to give it to her. Which is why you put them there in the first place. Leave them, Bella."

_I would. And I do... _"Okay."

"You'll figure it out, sweetheart. And I'll be here to help you, in any way that I can, as much as you want me to."

"I'll always want you. _To_."

"You didn't have to add that 'to'. I was happy without it."

I smile and tear my eyes from him to glance once more around the spare room I've never been happier to have. "Do you think it's okay? No one has ever slept in here but Alice, and- What if she hates blue?"

"It's a warm bed in a safe place. That's what's most important tonight, don't you think?"

I nod and he tucks me into him, holding me tight as he whispers into my hair, "Colors are easy, Bella. And we can change them. Anything she might not like. But wait for her not to, or to not at all. Because I personally don't think there's anything not to like here. And there's certainly nothing to hate."

"Thank you, Edward." _Thank you so much._

**…**

**…**

Jasper stood in the doorway and watched us. And still stood there watching me after Edward left me to go to the kitchen and make coffee.

I didn't meet his eyes. I couldn't. Because I was afraid to.

Because they hadn't left me since he stood up from in front of my fire. My fire that was blazing by the time he was finished with it.

And maybe I'm just being paranoid... but I think that maybe that blaze had a purpose. More than just to warm us.

I think he saw something.

And made a decision not to let anyone else.

Something I've wondered about many times. If he would or he wouldn't.

I've always known Jasper loved me...

But I don't think I realized how or just how much until Edward came. And then left.

But I do now.

I know...

That he loves me too much.

His leaving is proof.

Because he's coming back.

And bringing someone with him.

_To _me.

Instead of taking her far, far away.

Like he should.

**…**

**…**

"Alexandra, this is Bella. She's-"

"No one calls me that. Well, just my mom, but she's not here anymore."

"I'm sorry," Jasper tells her, "I didn't know that. What does everyone call you?"

"My dad called me Alex, but I didn't like that because Alex is a boy's name. He wanted a boy instead of a girl. But I'm not supposed to know that."

"What would you like to be called?" I ask her, hoping she'll someday forget what she knows.

"My friends at school call me Aly."

"Can I call you that, too?" I ask now, really wanting to be her friend.

"Yeah. And I already met Bella, Jasper. I just didn't know her name."

"You did?" he asks her, but looks at me when he does.

And this time I look back. While we both listen to her. "Yeah. At the bookstore when I was getting my new book. This one," she says, holding it up as she does, "the one that you said she wrote."

"I wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into her," I add to her explanation, because he's still looking at me instead of her. But then I look at her, because what's in her eyes that are looking at me is so much more important. "I did write it. I was going to tell you that at the bookstore, but-"

"But I said goodbye before you could?"

"Yes," I say, wanting never to hear those words from her again. "But that's okay, because you had to go."

"My mom was waiting for me."

I nod, not sure what to say now, but then she says something else. "But she's not now, because I wasn't important enough."

_Not important enough? _"Sweetheart, that's not why... "

"Yes it is."

"No... "

"It is. I asked her not to leave me in the hotel all alone. But she wouldn't stay with me. Because my dad wasn't there. And she wanted him to stay where she could see him, too. Even more than me.

"She told me to be a big girl and read my book, and she left to go look for him. Because she thought he was with that other lady that we're not supposed to know about but do. She's my dad's special friend. And she was more important than me. To my dad _and_ my mom. And now I don't have either. Because they didn't come back where I could see them. And won't ever again.

"I only have my book now. And a sister I didn't know about but wish I did. That wrote my book."

"I'm sorry you didn't know," I tell her, because I am. More sorry than she ever could.

"I wasn't important enough to you, either?" she asks, unlike me, afraid to look at nothing. Because her eyes are boring into mine in a way that a child's shouldn't. A way that tells me she isn't. Wasn't let to be.

"No... that's not why. It's not why at all. I didn't know about you. Just like you didn't know about me. I promise I didn't, Aly. Because if I did... you would have been the _most _important person in the world to me."

"I've never been the most important person in the world to anyone."

Her words are like a knife cutting through me. They hurt. And bring tears to my eyes. Tears I haven't seen in hers.

"I'm sorry," I say, because it's all I can, though the words choke me coming out.

And then I feel Edward's hand on my back. The warmth of it. And of him. Telling me I can give her more. Like I did him.

"But you _are_ now," I tell her, leaving that warmth to crouch down in front of her. "And you're not all alone anymore. And never will be again."

She studies my face for a moment, and then looks up at Edward. "Are you mad that she said I am?" she asks him.

"No," he answers, shaking his head and smiling at her. "Do you think I should be?"

"I don't know. But I think you were the most important before I came. So, maybe you won't like me, even if you're not mad."

"I could never not like you, Aly. If it's okay that I call you that?"

She nods, not taking her eyes from him. "What should I call you?"

"My name is Edward."

"Is that what my sister calls you?" she asks, and he laughs.

"Your sister calls me a few different things... but mostly, yes."

"Are the other things nice?" she asks now, looking at me warily before training her eyes back on him.

"Yes," he tells her, crouching down beside me and clasping my hand in his. "Because your sister is the nicest person I have ever met. And she could never say anything that wasn't."

"Is that why she's the most important one?" she asks, eyeing our hands.

"It's one reason. Another is because she's beautiful. And she shares how much she is. Because her heart is really big."

She smiles, liking his answers, and asks yet another question. "Do you live here?"

"No. I live in the house next door."

She looks like she's about to ask something else, but then something behind us catches her eye. "Bella, you have a cat!"

"Do you like cats?" I ask, hoping her answer is yes, though the sudden joy in her face calms my fears that it could be anything else.

She rushes past us, to where Figaro now sits perched on the arm of the couch. "Yes. I always wanted one, but my mom was allergic and I couldn't have one. Can I pet it?"

"Sure. If he'll sit still long enough."

He does, surprisingly, seemingly already having decided that he likes our guest.

"What's his name?" she asks, as her little hand elicits a contented purring from him.

I cross the room and stand beside her, silently willing him to stay content and not bite her or anything. "His name is Figaro."

"Like the cat in Pinocchio?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a fish named Cleo, too?"

"No," I say, and smile. "No fish named Cleo. But we could get one? If you'd like?"

"My mom always said that. Because she wouldn't let me have anything else. But she didn't mean it because we never got one."

"That's another one of the reasons," Edward says before I can say anything, and comes to stand behind the couch, leaning over and resting his arms on the top. "That she's the most important one... because she means _everything _she says."

"I think everyone should mean what they say," she tells him, looking between us and then at Jasper, who's still across the room with his friend, who hasn't said a word since they got here. But who could still take her away, which would make it not true. Or me be able to. "Thank you for bringing me here. You can go home now," she tells them both, "I want to stay."

The woman smiles at her, but then looks up at me, as if she's not sure that I want the same thing. "I want her to stay," I tell her, because I do, and because I want Aly to hear me say the words. And hopefully remember what Edward told her when she does.

Something I'm sure she does when I look back at her and see their locked eyes and matching smiles.

"Okay," the woman says finally, turning towards the door, "I'll be in touch. And Jasper has my number. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything before then."

I nod and watch Jasper follow her out. "I'll get her things."

"I don't have very many," Aly says as soon as he closes the door.

"Very many what, sweetheart?" I ask her, not sure what she means.

"Things. We were only here to visit my dad on his business trip. Because my mom thought it was a different kind of trip. I only have some clothes. She wouldn't even let me bring my pillow."

_My god, what kind of life did this child have? To know things like that? More things I want her to forget. _"Is your pillow a special one?"

"No, it's just soft. Not like the ones at the hotel. Or like the one I had before my Grandma gave it to me."

She must mean her father's mother, because our mother's died before she left me and my dad. One year before.

But I swear Jasper said she didn't have anyone else... "Is your grandma... " I stop, because I don't want to ask her if she's still alive, especially not now. "Um... "

"She died. Last year when I was six."

"My grandmother died when I was six, too," I tell her. "And I don't know what kind of pillow it was that yours gave you, but I have lots of pillows. And they're all soft. And you can have any one that you want. And if none of them are soft enough, we can go out tomorrow and get one that is."

"Edward was right, you're really nice."

"He was," Jasper agrees, coming back into the house, carrying a small yellow suitcase. That I try not to focus on the color of. _But, God, I hope her favorite color isn't yellow... _"And about all of the other things he told you about her. So, I _will_ go home now, because I know that you're in the best place in the whole world here with her. Goodnight, Aly. I hope you have sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," she says, and I mouth a silent _Thank you _and watch as Edward follows him to the door.

"You coming?" I hear him ask him, but I don't wait for his answer. Because I know he won't leave us.

"I'm thirsty, how about you?"

My little sister nods her head, and grabs my hand. Trustingly.

And together we head to the kitchen.

My kitchen.

Where coffee waits.

For us.

Edward and I.

And something sweeter.

And purer.

For her.

My little sister.

Who never should have been given anything that wasn't.

And never will be again.

**…**

**…**

"Bella?"

"Yes, Aly?"

"I'm tired now."

The sun is nearly up when she whispers the words.

And her eyes finally look like they might close. Like she can let them.

I know, because I've been watching her.

Have barely taken mine from her face.

The face that looks different to me now.

She doesn't look so much like our mother, like I thought when I first saw her.

It's our grandmother she looks like.

Someone good. And loving, and sweet.

Someone like, from what she's told us - Edward and I, because he's still here - the one she had until a year ago.

And someone like Edward's. Because we talked about her, too. Because Aly asked him about his.

Because she likes him.

Something I thought I saw right away, but something I was sure of when she asked him not to leave. Because she heard him ask me if I wanted him to, even though she wasn't supposed to.

I didn't...

Want him to...

Never will...

But I would have asked him to if it would have made her more comfortable.

And he would have understood.

That I wouldn't have been asking for me.

Because he knows I'm not just me anymore.

I'm us.

Her and I.

Who _both _wanted him to stay. And still do.

"Okay." I get up from the couch where we sat with her in front of the fire, that we kept going because she liked it, too.

Something she told us she'd never had before. Or seen, except on tv.

Something she couldn't take _her _eyes off of, while mine watched her. And Edward's watched us both.

Like they do now as we head down the hall.

"Goodnight, Edward," she calls, "Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, Aly," he calls back. Then "See you tomorrow." Because he'd already told her she would. When she asked him. And me. If we spent every day together.

Because you should. Always, she said, if someone was important to you.

And I couldn't agree more. And Edward couldn't, either, and told her so. When he said we would. From now on.

"Are you warm enough?" I ask her, once she's climbed into the bed and I've tucked the blankets around her.

She nods, her head nestled sweetly against the pillow. The sight of which reminds me that she might not be something else.

"Is your pillow-"

"It's soft," she says before I can finish asking, and a smile touches her tired eyes. "It's very warm and soft here."

Tears fill my own at her sweet words. And for the ones that don't fill hers. "I'm glad you think so, Aly. Really, really glad."

"Me, too," she says, as hers drift closed. And then, in the faintest whisper "and that I have a sister like you, that I wish I always knew about."

_Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too..._

**…**

**…**

"Come here." Edward holds his hand out to me, and when I take it, pulls me into his lap. "She's going to be okay, Bella," he whispers, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "Better than okay. I promise you she is."

"She didn't deserve the life she had, Edward. To know the things she knew... was told... To believe the things she believes now... We only spent hours with her, and I know she didn't deserve it."

"No... but she deserves the life she'll have. The life you'll give her. The one that's waiting for her. The sweet, beautiful, innocent words... instead of the selfish, ugly ones they'll make her forget. The kindness, because you're not capable of giving anything else. To anyone. And the truth, that you'll never let hurt her. Because you'll give it. And mean it when you do. Like the promises you make, that all of the rest will show her she can believe in. She deserves everything good, Bella. She deserves _you_."

_Oh, Edward... if you only knew how wrong you are... and how right I want you to be... _"You sure do think highly of me."

"Yes, I do. And so will she. Even more than she does already. After only hours with you."

"She told me it was very warm and soft here."

"It is."

"But I don't think she meant the fire... or the pillows... or-"

"No... I don't think she did, either. I certainly don't."

"You know, I'm never going to order you away... "

"Good."

"Or give permission, even, for you to go."

"So, I'm stuck here?"

"Yeah. You're stuck here."

"Well, I'm glad, Bella... because Jasper was right, too. And, like Aly is... I'm in the best place in the whole world here with you.

"And I want to stay. "


	24. Chapter 24: Incriminating Evidence

**Chapter Twenty Four: Incriminating Evidence**

Jasper's car is in my driveway when Aly and I pull into it, with the newest member of my once empty house clutched in a plastic water-filled bag in her hand.

Cleo the fish. My first promise kept. Because I think I'm going to get the chance to keep others. Many, many others. Because I'm going to get to keep her. My little sister.

It's what Jasper told me. Just yesterday in my house. That isn't just mine now.

But the voice I hear isn't coming from this house that's ours. Mine and hers...

It's coming from the one next door. Through the one that's open. And it isn't Jasper's.

It's Edward's.

And it's angry. "What the hell kind of investigation are you running here, _Detective_? You get a piece of evidence practically gift wrapped and put in your hand and you're too incompetent to secure it? Or even fucking tell me about it before you lose it?"

_Evidence? What evidence?_

"I didn't lose anything! And you were out of town when it turned up, not that you did a damn thing for our investigation before you left, _Agent_."

_That's good, Jasper. For me... and her..._

"Well, if you hadn't have done such a halfass job with it before I got here-"

We don't hear Edward finish his sentence, or any more of their conversation through his open door, because I close mine with us inside.

"They don't like each other, do they?" Aly asks me once I have.

"No, they do... " I tell her, because deep down I really believe that, regardless of their demeanor with each other. "They just don't always agree on everything."

"They agree on you," she says, looking right into my eyes with a knowing she shouldn't have. "About how important you are."

"Well, Jasper has been my friend for a very long time. He's important to me, too."

"But different than Edward is."

"Yes, it's different."

"I know, because you look at him different than you look at Edward."

_Maybe I should be more careful about how I look at Edward..._

"But Jasper doesn't look at you different than Edward does. He looks at you the same. That's why they don't like each other."

_You see too much, Aly... just like you've heard._

And I want that evidence to be lost, too. With the other.

And stay that way.

So that we can stay this.

**…**

**…**

"I'm sorry if you beautiful ladies heard any of that," Edward says, closing my front door with himself inside and Jasper out. Because he left without ever coming in. "Sometimes I forget my manners."

"I've heard bad words before," Aly tells him. "My dad said them all of the time when he thought I couldn't hear him. And my mom, too. I even had a jar in my room that I put a piece of paper in every time they did. It was full."

"A piece of paper?" I ask her, "Did the pieces of paper say anything?"

"They said the bad word they said, and a different one I thought they should have."

"Are you going to write on pieces of paper about me now?" Edward asks her, looking guilty and ashamed.

_And damn adorable..._

"Do you want me to?" she asks him instead of answers.

"Not really... " he tells her, "but that's just because I don't like it when pretty girls I like are mad at me. Or think I'm bad. But I did a bad thing, so... "

"But you said you were sorry. And I know that you meant it. My mom and dad never did that. Or even thought about if I could hear. Because if they didn't see me, they didn't think about me at all."

"I thought about you."

"I know. Maybe I'll write that on a piece of paper and put in a jar. And make a jar of good things instead of bad ones I wish weren't."

"Ï like that idea," I tell her, wishing I'd have thought of it.

And had made a box of good.

Instead of the one I did.

That's buried now.

Forever.

I hope.

**…**

**…**

There's a knock at the door just as I'm clearing our dinner plates from the table. Aly's, mine, Edward's, Jasper's, and Alice's.

And Edward and Jasper move to answer it at the same time.

And Aly looks at me. And then at Alice, who already was.

Because they both know things they shouldn't.

Have seen and heard.

And then I worry that someone else has. And does.

Because I hear my father's voice.

At my front door.

That I want to close with him outside of.

Lock it before he was.

Seal it.

Before any bad could slip through it.

Or be let to.

Something neither of those important men in my life are letting happen.

The two.

"Who are you and what do you want with her?" I hear Edward ask.

"He's her father," Jasper answers for the man outside. The one who isn't important.

The stranger.

Who should have stayed that way.

And far.

Buried...

In his drunken oblivion.

But who didn't.

"Ït's okay, Edward," I say, rushing to where they stand, and "Stay here, please," before rushing out the door and closing it behind me. And in front of my past. That I don't want in my future.

But part of it refuses to be left behind. Or in if I'm out with it. And without him.

Jasper is out now, too.

"Go back inside, Jasper."

"No, Bella."

"You're still around, I see," my dad says to him, before glancing past him, to who else is. Though he doesn't know him, or why that's so important to me.

And so wrong. "Edward, please... "

"If anyone is going to protect you here, Bella, it's me."

_I'm not so sure that's true, Edward. But I love that you want to. Or think you do._

_And hate it, too... _"I don't need protecting. I promise I don't. By _either _of you. So, please, both of you, go back inside. I'll be in in a minute."

"And _I'll _escort you in," he tells me, "And that's the end of it."

_If you stay, it might be. The end of us. And me. _"Even if I'm ordering you to go without me? And wait for?"

"So, you want to go backwards? And close the door again?"

"No... I just want... It's cold out here. And hard. And I just want you to go back to where it isn't. And wait for _me_ to come back."

"Bella, if it's cold and hard-"

"Please, Edward? Give me what I need? What I'm _asking _you for... that you know is not easy for me... Please?"

"Are you _only _asking me?"

"Yes," I tell him, because I am. And he looks angry instantly, but only because I'm not finished yet. "Because I'm not _asking _Jasper... Go inside, Jasper."

"Bella-"

"Now."

His expression is one of hurt, but he turns and opens the door. And then does what I expect, and waits for Edward to join him on the other side of it before he closes it.

Something he does, but only after he does something else. And says, when his lips leave my skin and move to my ear. "My door's not locked, Bella."

"Thank you," I tell him, and watch him disappear behind mine.

And then I turn back to the cold and hard I don't want to be anywhere with, gesturing him to follow me next door.

He looks confused, but does, and once we're inside the door of Edward's house, I ask the question that could slam another in my face. "Why did you come here?"

"Because you left here."

"My comings and goings stopped concerning you a long time ago. If they ever did. So-"

"That's not true, Bella."

"WHY did you come here?"

"I think you know why. And what I saw before I did. What told me I had to."

"I'm not interested in hearing about your drunken delusions. So, go home and take them with you."

"I know I deserve that... earned it from you... but I haven't touched a bottle since the night you came home. Haven't swallowed a drop. Of anything... but truth. Horrible, ugly truth."

"Good for you." _How does it feel, Dad?_

"No, Bella... it's not. It's not good for me. It's not good for anyone."

"Then, bottoms up. That should bring back _good_ for you."

"I know what you did."

"You don't know anything."

"I dug it up."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say as calmly as I can.

"Yes, you do. You just don't know what I found. With it."

"You didn't find anything. But my address. That you showed up to uninvited. And unwanted. And that you can leave now." _And the Oscar goes to..._

"I'm sorry, Isabella. For all of the things I did wrong. Didn't do at all. Failed you by not... "

_Not_ me. "Don't call me that! And don't apologize to me! Just go away! Go back-"

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can. If you're really sorry for anything, then you can. You can turn around and walk out of here. And forget that you ever had a daughter that you failed. Forget-"

"I can't forget what I saw. And why I might have. All of the things I didn't see... wasn't paying any attention to... too drunk and too delusional to see right in front of my face. Even when you weren't anymore. After I watched that boy take you away... the one that's a man now. And still here. And could take you somewhere else... I can't forget, Bella."

"So, what? You were silent all of my life - most of it - and now you have something to say? Something you want me to hear? The last something? That you're here to take it from me? My life that you never wanted to be a part of?"

"I'm not here to take it from you. I came to tell you _that_. And that from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry for not being in it. And for what it's become because I wasn't."

"You don't know anything about me! Or my life! Or what it's become!"

"I _found_ them. And I burned them. The gloves. The ones you wore to...

"I burned all of them. And removed all traces of blood from the box they were in. And hid it somewhere no one will ever find it. Because I won't help anyone find you. Not after you helped me find myself... by losing yours. Before you came home to bury it. In a place where you thought nothing lived."

_But..._ "You burned them?"

"Yes."

"You... the cop... the _Chief _of Police... "

"And _father_. Though I know that's pushing it... but yes. I did."

"And you came here to tell me that."

"Yes. And that I want to help you."

"_Help_ me?"

"Yes. In any way that I can. As any of the things that I am. And should have been, but wasn't."

"You wouldn't if-"

"I know you killed your mother, Bella."

I stare at him... shock and disbelief not letting me look away now... and my voice not letting me speak a word of it.

A word of anything.

So, he fills the silence again. "Maybe if I'd have gone after her... when she left... made her face us... you...

"Maybe she wouldn't have done so much damage. If, even if she didn't want to stay, I'd made her say goodbye... maybe you could have accepted it. Could have healed. Let her go... and the others you didn't. For whatever reason you couldn't.

"But I didn't. I didn't give you that chance. Didn't make her give it to you. And didn't give you one at a happy, healthy life with all you had left. The miserable father you were stuck with. Who didn't give you anything you deserved. Or needed. Anything at all... but what you didn't."

_Maybe... but it's too late for that now. And too late for this. _"Well, consider the dad slate wiped clean. I'm all grown up now, and I don't need one anymore. Or anyone or anything that isn't next door waiting for me."

"You mean like your ex-but-still-present-boyfriend the police detective? Who's in charge of the investigation into the killings? _Your_ killings?"

"He's one of them, yes. The people I need."

"And the other one? Who's in the place the first wishes he still was?"

"He's not your concern."

"Is he yours? In the ways he should be?"

"He's mine in _every _way."

"Does that include his job? With the FBI? And his location? The one I'm standing in? Right next door to you? Where he wasn't until _after _there were killings to investigate? Yours?"

"I'm not stupid. I'm-"

"Surrounded by people who want to destroy you."

"_They_ love me. They-"

"Will forget that. And might only want you to _believe _that so- shit! My God, how stupid can I be?"

I'm about to ask him what the hell he's talking about now, but when I open my mouth he covers it with his hand. And shakes his head at me, putting a single finger to his own lips.

But I pull away. Because I don't want him to touch me. Or protect me from who I do. "This house isn't bugged. And if it was, it's already too late. I-"

"Didn't say anything," he whispers, "Not enough. And you're not going to say another word."

_Oh yes I am. Because I don't like the ones you said._ "Edward loves me. He's not-"

"Going to leave room for you to doubt it if he doesn't. And... "

"Go ahead, _Chief Swan_. And _what_? What am I not going to do with the woman I love?"

"Edward... " I barely manage to whisper. And only.

"I know what you said, Bella... and I tried... to wait for you to come back... but I could feel the temperature drop in here from that warm place you left me in. So, I came to make sure you weren't getting too cold."

I look at his front door... that isn't the one he came through... _unheard_... and wonder if anyone else is about to.

Silent or not.

If my father is right...

Could even possibly be...

And if Edward didn't come because he worried that I was getting cold.

If he came because he'd gotten even warmer.

Hot, maybe.

Because I'm in flames.

Right in front of his eyes.

That weren't here a moment ago.

_Maybe._

I didn't hear him until he wanted me to.

Hear him say what I wanted him to say.

Have been waiting for.

But Edward...

Did he?

Before he got here?

Or after?

Did he hear me?

Say what _he's _been waiting for?

"Say goodbye to your dad, Bella."

Or not?

Because I didn't deny it?

And won't the hold he has on me.

That I don't deny now.

Even though it could end me.

"Goodbye."

**xx**

**Ummm...**

**So, just a few things... off topic to that ummm... or from? Yeah, we know I'm not a master of words. THAT is evident. **

**Anyhoo... I was a little surprised by how many of you thought the last chapter was sappy. Or maybe a lot surprised. I guess because I didn't think it was?... Because, boy, and _girls_, I can be. Really sappy. And I have evidence of that, too. Totally incriminating. And complete. I'm talking about When You Close Your Eyes, that beat this, and the princess of sappy, Cups Full of wishes, to that status. So, go read it. Please. Because it means a lot to me.**

**This does, too, of course. And maybe you're all a little pissed at me for where I left it... but we'll be back. All of us. Cross my sappy heart.**

**Oops... almost forgot... I'm also not a master of brain function. And because I'm not, and wasn't at all when I started this, what you see now may look a little strange to you. Because I'm in the process of fixing my embarrassing error, but am not finished yet. I have to re-upload all of the chapters to do that, and that's going to take time. The mistake involves numbers. Chapter numbers. Which changed, sort of. Because the first previously said 'prologue', which it wasn't. And doesn't say now. Because I already fixed that part. It's all that's changed/changing, other than for a few 'a beta would have caught them' errors I'm fixing, too, as I go. Because I don't use one. OBVIOUSLY. So, if you're behind and the chapter numbers (the ones I type at the top of each) don't seem to make sense, don't worry, I didn't skip any. Which you won't know until you see this... if anyone even reads my E/Ns... but which I thought I should try to explain anyway.**

**Okay, that's it.**


	25. Chapter 25: Sweet

**Chapter Twenty Five: Sweet**

Edward escorted my father out of his house without a word.

Stayed silent until I was back in my own.

Without him.

And then spoke ones I couldn't hear.

Ones I'm still watching him speak through my living room window.

I don't know what he's saying...

The movement of his lips, though I stare at it, isn't clear enough for me to read from this distance...

But still I can't look away.

Because if my eyes only have moments more to see him, I don't want to waste a single one.

But then I hear a voice beside me. "Bella?"

And feel a warmth. A softness. And a fear, I think...

That I can't ignore. Even for him. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is something bad happening?"

"No," Jasper answers before I can. And with more certainty than I would have had. "I promise it's not, Aly."

I watch as she looks up at him, trying to decide, I think, if she should believe him. Or trust him. That he means what he says...

But I don't think she can. Decide.

Because then she looks at me. In a way that melts my heart.

And tells me to move...

Put something good in that jar...

For the sake of hers. "He's right... " _Because he won't let it._ "So, don't you worry about anything. Except maybe how big of a mountain of whipped cream you want on top of your ice cream sundae."

"I want a really big one," she says with a smile, because she knows no one would eat ice cream sundaes if something bad was happening. "But I want to wait for Edward. We can't eat ice cream sundaes without him."

"Definitely not," I agree. Because I do.

And want to believe I didn't just lie to her.

And that Jasper didn't.

And that we won't have to.

Eat ice cream sundaes...

Or do anything at all...

Without him.

Or each other.

Ever.

**…**

**…**

"Say when," Edward tells Aly, who, like him, already has a mouthful of the whipped cream he's now smothering her sundae with.

"When!" she squeals through giggles, because she didn't say it until her ice cream had vanished beneath a mountainous cloud of white.

One that's sweet, and in no way ominous, like the ones that may loom over our heads.

Edward still hasn't said a word. To me, anyway. That would tell me if he heard any of mine. Or my father's.

And his demeanor isn't giving anything away. Or telling me if he's going to take.

Because he's focused on Aly. And the promise he made to her.

Having ice cream sundaes for dessert was his idea. And one that she was instantly excited about. And, together, they went to the store this afternoon to get everything we'd need to make them.

And now, another promise has been kept. A simple one... but a promise, nonetheless.

To someone important to me. And, because she is, to him.

Because _I'm _important to him.

Something I can still see fierce and strong in his eyes as he turns to me. "Open up that crazy beautiful mouth," he says, a playful smirk touching his lips, and the can of whipped cream poised and ready in his hand.

I open... and he fills it with creamy sweetness... as his smirking mouth leans close to fill my ear with something else. "And be ready to open it again later, because - I hope you didn't think for a second I'd forgotten - you still have some unfinished business to tend to."

_Better me than you... _"Just say when... " I whisper back, compliant as I've ever been.

"That sounds so much better when you say it," he says with a snicker, before topping my ice cream with a generous squirt and then handing the can of whipped cream to a smiling Alice.

Smiling because he is. And because I am.

And because as long as we both are, she's happy.

Which only makes me happier.

If only I could say the same for Jasper...

Who I'm looking at now.

And who makes the smile fall from my face.

Because he's looking at me, too...

And not smiling.

Not happy.

Not at all.

**…**

**…**

"If you want to go, Alice, then go."

She looks at me as she answers her husband, anything but happy now. "We came in one car, Jasper. Or did you forget that?"

"I didn't forget," he tells her, "but if you want to go home, then what am I supposed to do?"

"_Take_ me."

The plea in her answer this time is heartbreaking, but Jasper doesn't seem to hear it. "I want to talk to Bella before I go."

_You should have said _we_, Jasper... not I. We. Before _we _go..._

"You've been talking to her all night."

"So has everyone else."

"Do you need or want us to stay, Bella?" she asks me, instead of responding to him. "To talk about... anything? Now that Aly's asleep?"

"No, sweetie. I'm fine. Jasper, take her home."

"She can go by herself. I want to-"

Edward has been quietly watching their exchange - and me - but he's apparently reached his limit with Jasper's part of it. And, again, _me_... "If Bella needs anything... or _anyone_... I'm here. Just like you should be _there _for your wife, who told you she has a headache and would like to go home."

"I know you're new here..." Jasper returns spitefully, "but I'm not. And maybe she hasn't felt close enough to you to share things about her life... but there's _nothing _I don't know. And I'm-"

"Going to go take care of your wife," I finish for him, "because your friend is fine."

"You gave her something for her headache, Bella. And as soon as it kicks in and starts working, she'll be-"

"Making your bed on the couch," she finishes for him this time. And then turns to me. "I know your dad showing up here tonight is a big deal... and of course I care about how you feel about it... just as much as Jasper does... "

"I know that, Alice, it's okay."

"No, it's really not... but my head just hurts so bad... "

"I know," I tell her again, and wrap my arms around my suffering-too-much friend. "And that everything's going to be okay. Because Jasper's going to take you home now and tuck you into bed and take care of you."

He opens his mouth to speak, his stubborn blue eyes on me...

And I shoot him a look that tells him I want them somewhere else. On someone, and in a different place.

_His_.

Which isn't here with me.

And he just stands there for a moment... staring at me...

And then speaks words I understand. And can't be mad at him for.

"I meant what I told Aly. I need you to know that."

"I do," I tell him. "And I-"

"_Nothing_, Bella. It isn't and it won't. I won't let it. I won't _ever _let it."

But _he _needs to understand, too. That there are different kinds of bad things that could happen.

Things that he never, _ever _has to let.

So I slowly walk Alice to him, and push her gently into his arms.

And pray that he hears me.

"I know you won't."

**…**

**…**

"He won't what?" Edward asks a few moments after they pull away. _Together_.

"Sleep on the couch tonight. She'll never make him."

"I don't give a damn where he sleeps, Bella. As long as it isn't _here_. And you know it, so answer the question I asked you."

"Aly asked me earlier if something bad was happening. He answered her. And promised that nothing was."

"When was this and where was I?"

"You were outside with our uninvited guest."

"Jasper isn't the only one who wants to protect you, Bella. And who _will_. No matter what."

"I know," I say, even though I don't at all.

And he sees right through it. "You will."

And I want to believe him so badly...

But know that he doesn't know what he's saying.

Doesn't know how far he'd have to go to keep his promise.

And doesn't-

"I love you, Bella."

_Oh God, I love you, too, Edward..._

"You _will _know that. Believe it, And learn to not be afraid of it. Or afraid to trust it. If it kills me, you'll know."

"I know I have work to do... " I say instead of what I want to, "...unfinished business to tend to... but-"

My question disappears into his mouth.

His promising, _loving _mouth...

And takes with it all others.

All _everything_...

As he takes me slowly and quietly down the hall and into my bedroom, and once inside, closes and locks the door with quiet, gentle clicks.

"Nothing's more important than you," he whispers, pulling my sweater up and over my head. "And until you know that... " His fingertips move like delicate feathers down my arms until they reach my hands, and he brings them together to his lips. "I'm the one with work to do."

And then drops them. And my jeans at my feet, which he lifts free.

Before setting me...

_God, I love you, too..._

**…**

**…**

"I'm so sorry," I say, rushing into my kitchen and finding two beautiful, fresh, smiling faces. "Why didn't someone wake me up?"

"Edward said we should let you sleep," Aly says, looking up from her whisking of what I assume is pancake batter. "Until we were finished making breakfast for you. Then we were going to wake you up."

"Well, that was sweet... " _Just like the reason - hours of reasons - that I was so tired and slept so late... _"but you didn't have to... What can I help with?"

"Nothing," Edward answers, pulling a chair from the table and guiding me into it, before putting his lips to my ear. "Just like I told you last night."

_Oh, you told me..._

_More than I ever dreamed of hearing..._

_Or feeling..._

"Okay," I agree easily. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he confirms, and kisses my cheek. "For now, at least. "

"So, is there coffee for me to drink while I do nothing?"

"What do you think?" he asks, and walks away. And to it without waiting for my answer.

"I'll get the cream!" Aly squeals, as if it's an honor to do so, and dashes to the fridge.

And I just sit and watch them...

And let myself forget for just a moment how wrong everything could go.

And focus on how right it all is now.

How perfect...

When you do nothing.

Instead of...

Well...

_Whoosh..._

**…**

**…**

"How's your head today?"

"Much better, thanks. I feel like a new woman!"

"I'm glad, Alice... you look... " I start to tell her how she looks much better than she did last night, but her anxious energy distracts me. "Are you looking for something?"

"Where's your paper?" she asks, seemingly annoyed that it's not in her sight.

And perhaps mine? Though I don't know why... "I don't know, maybe still outside?"

"So, you haven't seen it?"

"The paper? Well, obviously not if I just said-"

"Yes, Bella, the PAPER."

Maybe Jasper_ did _sleep on the couch last night... but it's hardly my fault if he did. Or if she made him. "_No_, I haven't," I say less than sweetly. Because I'm having a wonderful day and I'm not going to let her ruin it for me just because she might not be. "Why? Is there something special in it today that I should be aware of?"

"Not special, exactly, but... _interesting_."

"Interesting... okay, I'll bite. What is it?"

"News about the Catwoman case."

"_News_?" I repeat, growing more irritated. And maybe just a little nervous, though, like I said, I _am_ having a wonderful day... so far, at least.

"Yeah... _news_. Seems they were dead on with that name."

"And why were they?" I ask, wishing she wasn't so entertained by it all. This thing that could ruin my wonderful...

"Because apparently a cat hair was found at one of the crime scenes. It was when the family went in to clear all of the victim's belongings out. And the victim did _not _have a cat."

_A cat hair? Is that the piece of evidence Jasper and Edward were arguing about the other day?_

"Apparently?"

"Yes. Just apparently. Because they don't have it now."

"The cat hair?"

"Yes. The _cat _hair."

"Why don't they?" I ask, suddenly afraid that I already know the answer.

"Well, because it was _misplaced_. Supposedly. According to an unidentified source. Something the cops wanted to keep a lid on, of course, the finding, since there was also _losing_... but someone didn't get the memo. And informed the press. And it was front page news this morning. And all over the television morning news. And-"

_Why the hell is she smiling like that? Jesus, Alice... _"And you're _happy_?"

"Call me... _amused_."

"Amused? Even though your husband is leading the investigation? And is probably now being laughed at and-"

"He's a big boy."

_Who I think did a big thing. For me. I'd bet my life on it..._

"Yes, he is. And one who should have his wife's support, and love, and respect, not-"

"Don't tell me what my husband should have, Bella! Or what I should give him! Don't you dare!"

"Then don't give me a reason to have to," I challenge. Because I owe him that much. This...

"You gave up the right to decide what he needed when you gave up _him_! You don't get to take it back!"

"I'm not trying to take anything back, Alice. You know better than that. And you know that I'm right about what I said. He deserves better than this from you!"

"Oh yeah? He deserves better? And what about you, Bella? What do _you _deserve?"

"I don't know," I say, much more softly, just as Figaro rubs against my leg.

"No?" she asks, watching him with a sudden interest that makes my blood run cold.

"No... " I repeat, and then jump, and look past her, startled and entranced by Edward and Aly's laughter exploding through the now-open front door.

But the spell is quickly broken.

Because Alice steps suddenly closer to me - a hard, heavy movement for her tiny, usually dancer-like presence - her focus seemingly now on my sweatshirt.

Which she then reaches out and pulls a hair from - one of Figaro's hairs - and holds it up between us. "Well, be careful what - and _who_ - you try to hold on to... and defend... and whose side you take... support and respect... because someone else might. They might know exactly." And flicks the hair to the tile floor and walks away.

Leaving me to stare after her, frozen in her wake...

And wishing I was back in my bed.

In its safety.

And its warmth.

And...

"Bye, guys! And bye, _Kitty_!"

Its sweet oblivion.

**xx**

**Sorry for the wait. I hope it was enough. And if it wasn't... well, it's simply all I had to give. This time.**

**See you the next? I hope?**


	26. Chapter 26: Colors

**Chapter Twenty Six: Colors**

"Well, that was a short visit. Didn't she want to stay for–Bella, what's wrong?"

_Everything now... _"Nothing."

"Nothing. Hmmm... You wanna try again? Because you're obviously confused about who you're talking to."

"I could never be confused with you in front of me."

"And that makes me very happy, Bella, but not so much that it blinds me. Or makes me deaf to lies from your crazy beautiful mouth."

"I love you, Edward."

"Now, _that_ I believe."

"I hope so. Because it's true. I do. And no matter what else... I... I just need you to know that."

"I do. And did, before you said it. _And _before you were afraid to."

"Don't forget... ever... please... I–"

"Why would I forget, Bella?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do. Just like I know that you're still afraid of something. Or someone. Or more specifically, _me_."

_Not only. Not anymore. And not... _"I'm not afraid of you."

"You _shouldn't _be."

"I'm not... "

"You _are_."

"No... I'm not... not _of _you... just of–"

"_Losing_? Me?"

"Yes," I admit to him. Because he'd never believe me if I lied about that.

"It's the same thing, Bella."

"No, it's not. You–"

"Am the _only _person, circumstance, or thing that could take me from you. Make you lose me...

"It's exactly the same, Bella. And not something you should fear. _I'm _not. Because I'll never do it. I'll never make you lose me."

"Never's a long time... "

"It _is_. And I'm looking very forward to spending every crazy beautiful moment of it with you."

**…**

**…**

My phone is in my hand as soon as Edward and Aly pull out of my driveway.

I don't know where they're going...

He wouldn't tell me...

And maybe that should scare me...

Terrify me...

But it doesn't.

Because, no matter what else he might, he wouldn't do _that _to me.

Take her away without letting me say goodbye.

And he wouldn't do it to her.

I know he wouldn't, no matter what else I don't.

So I make my call.

Something I _am _afraid of, but think I've run out of time to not face any longer.

"Jasper? I need to talk to you. Edward and Aly just left. And I don't know how long they'll be gone... but can you–"

"I'll be there in two minutes."

**…**

"I don't know how to do this, " I start as soon as he walks through my front door, exactly two minutes from the time he said he would. "_Say _this... so I'm going to just–"

But I stop, because he grabs me by the hand and pulls me back the way he came. "I left my car running, with the heat on. Anything you have to say, say to me there."

"Okay," I say with a nod, his preparations only confirming my suspicions, and let him guide me to it.

That place of safety and security and unconditional love that is Jasper. Still... even after everything I've done. To him and to...

"Warm enough?" he asks, once he's closed my door with me inside and then his own as he settles in beside me.

"Yeah. Warmer than I deserve for you to try to make me."

"I'd never want you to be cold, Bella. Or let you be, if it was in my power to prevent it."

"I think I know that."

"You should."

"But–"

"No buts, Bella." He looks at me with those deep blue eyes... the love he feels for me still deep in them–though at this moment, as on the surface as it's ever been–and I nearly crumble under the weight of his words. The ones he didn't say.

And the ones I'm going to. Be selfish enough to. "I think someone else wants me to be. Cold... and God knows what else...

"And you... well, I think that you are the only person in the world that could make her not."

"_Her_?" he repeats, as if the word is a foreign one to his ears.

"Yes," I tell him, my eyes falling to his wedding ring. The one that she put on his finger with my blessing. My...

"Alice loves you, Bella. And–"

"No, Jasper... she doesn't. Not anymore. She can't... not as long as you do."

"I'll always love you, Bella. She knows that, she's always known it, and–"

"But she knows something else now, too. The same something that you do."

He looks at me for a long moment, the something he knows written all over his face... but then he shakes his head. "No, she doesn't. It's not possible."

"I think it is. Somehow...

"And I'm scared, Jasper. I'm really, really scared. Because she's angry... and fed up... and–"

"Pregnant."

"What?"

"Alice is pregnant, Bella. And she's emotional... but she's _happy_. Because she finally has what she's always wanted."

"Something I never did. With you."

"Yes. And I know that's... well, it's _twisted_... but it's how she feels. She has a part of me inside of her that you never did. A part of me that I never gave you. She feels like she's finally won... or something. And–"

"She didn't even tell me. Because she wants more. Than that."

"What are you afraid of, Bella? What do you think she wants that I haven't given her?"

"Me."

"You? You _how_?"

"She knows, Jasper. I know she does. She said things... when she was here not saying others. She told me about what was in the paper...

"There was a pride in her when she talked about it... something... I didn't really understand it... But I got mad... told her she should show you more respect than that... that you deserved more from her... than for her to be so amused by it... and that made _her _mad... and then she asked me what _I _deserved... and when I said I didn't know...

"She said that someone else might. That they might know exactly. And I know that that could mean a lot of things... to her... because of _us_... the way she perceives us... _me_...

"But I also know that today it only meant _one_. She. KNOWS."

"Bella, did she threaten you?"

"She told me to 'be careful'. And, believe me, Jasper... it _was _a threat."

He looks away from me now... his eyes hard as he stares straight ahead... at my house... the one that feels more like a home to me than any I've ever lived in...

And then reaches down and takes my hand in his. Gently. Tenderly. And with regret.

That he doesn't share it with me.

And for something else. "Don't worry, Bella... on my life... I'll never let her have you."

**…**

**…**

"We're in my driveway, Jasper. Feet away from my front door. In the light of day. You don't have to walk me to it. Or through."

"Name one time I left you standing in a driveway? Any? And just drove away?"

"I can't." You _never did that..._

"And that's not going to change today. Or ever."

"Okay," I acquiesce, "You and your chivalry win."

"Thank you," he says with a gentlemanly bow, and then extends his arm.

And I take it with a guilt-laden smile and sigh. "I think that's my line. Or certainly should be. For–"

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Bella. Anything I've done, or anything I will. But you can answer a question for me... one I've meant to ask you a hundred times."

"What question?" I ask, as he stops our forward progress just before we reach my porch steps.

"Why is there a metal stake pounded into the ground right here?"

I can't help the smile that touches my lips as I look down at it and answer him. "Edward put it there."

"_Why_?"

"Because he wanted me to know... see... that he was staking his claim on me."

**…**

**…**

Aly rushes straight towards her room as soon as she and Edward come through the front door. The one that Jasper was just about to walk out of.

"Bye, Jasper!" she calls to him, before calling something very different out to me. "And hi, Bella! Stay out there!"

"Bye, Aly!" he calls back to her, at the same time that I yell "Okay!" all the while praying that everything is. And will stay.

Though at this moment, it really doesn't seem to be.

Because I was hugging Jasper goodbye–and maybe things other than–when they came in.

"See you later," he says, to both of us, Edward and I–even though Edward looks like he'd just as soon kill him as ever see him again–and walks out the door.

"Bye," I say softly, and close it the same, before turning back to the man I never want to see outside of it. "Should I be worried about what she's doing in there? And why I have to stay out here?"

"No. Should I be worried about what _you _were doing as soon as I was out _there_?"

His gesture at the door has a coldness to it. As do his words...

And I don't like either. "Do you really have to ask me that?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Bella. There's no need to be defensive."

"And there's no need for you to be _jealous_."

"I'm not jealous. I simply don't like–or appreciate–walking in here and finding another man's arms wrapped around something that belongs to me."

"I wrapped my arms around him first."

"And he certainly didn't appear to mind that you did. Or returning the gesture, obviously."

"He's my friend, why would he?"

"He's your friend because it's all you'll let him be. And because he respects your boundaries. _Only _yours, which, for my taste, aren't nearly clear enough."

"You staked your claim on this land, Edward. And I let you. Because it was what I wanted, too. And I would sure as hell never allow–or want–anyone to trespass on it."

"Yet you hugged him. Something you rarely, if ever, do if I'm _on _my claimed land."

"It was a congratulatory hug," I tell him. Even if not _only_...

"_For_?" he asks me, seemingly irritated that he has to.

"His impending fatherhood," I reply simply.

"They're having a baby?"

"Yes. And I'm very happy for them."

"Why didn't _she _tell you? She must have already known when she came to see you earlier?"

"She did... or so I assume, anyway... but I can't answer that. I don't know why she didn't tell me."

"Sure you do. You may not understand it, or think it has any basis, but it's not hard to figure out, Bella."

"What isn't?"

"Her jealousy of you."

"You're right, I don't understand it. And it _doesn't _have any basis, because I've never wanted her to be anything but happy."

"Yet she is. Jealous. And isn't. Happy. Can't completely be. Because that jealousy she feels in spite of what else she does... is... well, let's call it _complex_."

_More than you know, Edward... _"I know that, but–"

"But it's no longer important," he finishes for me. Because Aly is, and has come out of her room.

She went into it with shopping bag filled hands...

But it's not what she comes out with. What she holds now.

In one of her small hands, clutched to her chest so she doesn't drop it, is a jar. A clear one, made of glass, with a wide opening in the top. Wide enough to fit a hand inside, if it's a small one, like hers. And if it isn't closed, as it is, only for now, I know, with its cork stopper, from which a pretty red glass heart dangles on the end of a chain.

In her other hand she holds a small stack of red paper squares and a marker, because she's ready to fill it with good things. _Only _good things, and forget about the bad the good shared her last with.

"You had to stay out here because the red paper only came in big sheets, like school paper. And I didn't want you to see it until I made it into little ones that would fit in our jar."

"I like our jar," I tell her, as she puts down the pieces of paper and marker and uses both hands to place it carefully on the coffee table. "And the red paper you chose to put inside," that might finally tell me something she hasn't yet... "Is _red_ your favorite color?"

"I don't really have a favorite," she tells me, "I like all colors. Well, except for yellow. I don't like that one."

"I don't, either," I tell her, and hope she doesn't get upset about what else I do now. "But I didn't want to tell you that before because when you came here you had a yellow suitcase."

"I wanted a red one with white polka dots," she says, "just like Janey's galoshes in your book. My favorite one so far... but my mom bought me the yellow one instead. She said a red suitcase with white polka dots was silly."

_Bitch._

"But probably mostly she did because yellow was her favorite color. And she thought it should be mine, too."

_Did I know that? Somewhere in my memory? Is that why I hate it? Hated it even before... _"Well, I think your favorite color should be whatever color you like the most. And none at all if you like them all the same. Except for yellow, of course...

"And, I don't think a red suitcase with white polka dots is silly at all, and, _do _think, if you still want one, just like Janey's galoshes, that you should have one. So–"

"Do I need one?" she asks, looking straight into my eyes, and breaking my heart with the fear suddenly in hers. "Am I going somewhere? Again?"

"No, sweetheart... I didn't mean that you... I meant... just that... "

"That if we go on a trip somewhere," Edward says from beside me, because he knows I'm stuck, "to some wonderful place," like the one I'm in _because _he's beside me, and because she's in front of me, "that you should have something that _you _like to fill with the memories. Just like the pretty jar you chose to put good things in."

"Thank you," I whisper to him, my panic–and Aly's, I think–subsiding at the sound of him. But just in case... "That _is _all I meant, sweetheart. And I never want you to go anywhere... unless it's to some wonderful place... and I get to go with you. And your red suitcase with white polka dots, that I just meant I want you to have."

She smiles and grasps the red glass heart, pulling the cork from the jar. "That's why I picked this jar. And red paper to put in it. Because you picked red curtains. Because you wanted them. And I wanted the good things to match them. And belong here. And get to stay here... with you."

"You picked red because of me?" I ask her, tears brimming in my eyes.

She nods and uncaps the marker, and then looks down and away from me, as she writes something on the first square of red.

She holds it up when she's finished, and on it she's written my name.

The sight of which makes the tears spill over. And Edward's fingers, that have been resting warm and reassuring against my back, move in gentle circles. Telling me not to get stuck.

"You think _I'm _a good thing?" I ask her, unable to not, and wipe the tears from my face, though they continue to fall.

"My favorite," she answers, and then giggles. "_Person_." And folds the square into a smaller one and drops it into the jar.

And I want to ask her for the marker, but she starts writing on the next square before I can.

And, even though I watch her, I don't have to to know what she's writing now. Who...

"Yes!" Edward cheers, pumping his free-handed fist in the air at the sight of his name as she holds it up for us to see.

Aly laughs and shakes her head, and mutters a playful "Duh... " making us both laugh at the rare glimpse of a child she gives us.

"Can I write one now?" I ask her, and watch her drop in the second folded square.

She bites her lip as she looks at me, but then nods and hands me the marker.

And there's no way I'll get stuck now...

Let her see me...

And, after a quick brush of my fingertips against Edward's leg, I pull away from him and drop to my knees beside her at the low table, and write 'Aly' on the next square, so big that it fills it.

The smile she gives me makes me grateful that I'm already on my knees... because I surely would have fallen to them if I hadn't been.

This little girl hasn't been shown enough love in her life. Hasn't been given enough...

That she could trust or believe in...

Know, without a doubt, was good.

She hasn't at all.

But with everything I have, as long as I have it, I'm going to change that.

She's going to _know_.

Like she does–at least for this moment–when I fold her up and put her where she belongs.

With me.

"I wanted to put something in, too," Edward says now, his voice moving closer, "but you both took mine."

_Us_...

"You could put whipped cream," Aly tells him and laughs, because he left little doubt about how much he likes _that_.

_And I'm definitely going to have to remember that... and use it to my..._

His sexy chuckle as he moves to kneel next to me tells me he can read my thoughts...

And then he does... in a sexy whisper in my ear... "Some things don't need it. If only I could write _that_ and put it in a jar... "

_I'm so buying you your own jar..._

"Actually... " he says, after another knowing chuckle, and with a playful gleam in his eyes, "I know what I want to put in now. May I?"

His request for permission is to Aly, but I put the marker in his hand before she gives it.

Which she, of course, does. "Yes."

And we both watch as he writes 'Figaro' on his square.

_I see what you did there, Mr. Cullen... _

And he knows I do, his wink at me as he holds it up, proof. And of his affection for my...

"Bella let me be her friend because the day I moved in next door Figaro chased a squirrel up my tree. And I climbed up and got him."

"You did?" Aly asks with wide eyes.

"He did," I tell her, the picture of him doing so vivid in my mind. "Really high, too."

She smiles at him and watches him fold his square and drop it in with ours. "I'm glad you did that... but I think Bella would have let you be her friend anyway. Even if you didn't."

"I think so, too," I agree. And do it with no regrets.

Because that day changed my life.

And made me want a better one.

Different than I'd ever had.

And no matter what happens...

That day–and something else–brought me to this one.

"Can I put another in?" I ask now, on this.

And she nods and Edward puts the marker back in my hand.

And then laughs as he watches me write 'Edward's tree' on the paper.

And leans in to kiss my cheek. "Well, if we're going to be that specific, we'll need a bigger jar."

"I don't think they make jars as big as we'd need," I tell him, and smile at Aly's watchful gaze.

"I want to put another one in now," she says, and I hand her the marker and then fold my piece of good and drop it in while she writes.

Her 'another' is 'Cleo'. The first promise kept to her in her new life.

And after Cleo has joined the good, she looks at me and then up at Edward. "I want to put one more," she says, "but I don't want you to be mad at me."

Her words are clearly directed at Edward, and he responds immediately. And without the knowing he always seems to have with me. "What could I ever be mad at you for, Aly?"

She doesn't answer him out loud, only writes 'Jasper' on a square and holds it up for him to see.

And, no matter how he feels about it, he doesn't get stuck for a second. "I'm not mad at you for that, sweetheart. People aren't colors, but like them, you can like any you want. And, just so you know... Jasper isn't _yellow _to me."

"Good," she says, exactly as I'm thinking it, and folds the square and drops it in the jar. "Because he brought me here. And told me it was the best place in the world someone could be."


	27. Chapter 27: Confessions

**Chapter Twenty Seven: Confessions**

Edward isn't next to me when I wake up.

It's the crack of dawn and he _isn't _next to me.

And I didn't hear him not be.

Didn't hear him leave.

Didn't feel it.

Didn't wake up.

_Again_.

When someone snuck away from me.

But I try not to panic.

Because maybe I did...

Hear or feel him go...

And that's why I can see him gone.

Because maybe he _just _left.

Me and my bed.

And is just down the hall...

In the bathroom. Or the kitchen.

Maybe...

Or maybe not.

Because when I rush to one, and then the other, I don't find him.

He's not in either.

Or in my living room.

Which I rush to next.

And then to the window of it.

To see where else he might not be.

Or his Tahoe.

That _isn't _in my driveway, where it was when he was still here with me.

With us...

The us that I run back down the hall to see if I'm still a part of.

_Please still be here..._

And find that I am.

Because she is.

Aly is still asleep in her bed.

Still cradled by warm and soft.

He didn't take her.

When he took himself.

And his Tahoe.

That I rush back to see gone again.

From my driveway...

That, even though he has his own, and a garage he could park it in, is where he always leaves it.

So I can see it there.

Here...

Where I don't now.

**...**

**...**

"What are you doing up?"

"Wondering what you're doing gone."

"_Wondering_?"

"Well, I don't _know_, so yes. _Wondering_."

"And the tears?"

"Come with the wondering."

"They shouldn't."

"They already did."

"I see that. And I'm sorry. And I want them to go now because I'm not gone anymore."

"Did you forget something?" I ask him._ Is that why you came back?_

"Yes. I think I did."

"Well, don't let me stop you from getting it."

"I forgot how crazy beautiful you are."

"And you came back to see it one last time?"

"One _last _time, Bella?"

"It's what I asked."

"I heard you."

"And?"

"I see I still have work to do."

"Is that why you left?"

"Is _what _why, Bella?"

"Me. Am _I_? Am I just too much work?"

"Is that what you think?"

"I asked."

"Would I have come back if you were? Would I be here now? Right now, ready and willing to do more?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I knew. The answers... or... "

"How in love with you I am."

"You're in love with me?"

"Hell yes."

"Then why did you sneak out while I was asleep?"

"Because I heard someone else. Sneaking... trespassing... outside. And I had to protect what was in."

"Someone was outside?"

"Yes."

"Outside _here_?"

"Yes."

"And that's why you left me and went?"

"Yes."

I know I should ask him who...

Who he found sneaking around...

But... "But you _left_. Went further than outside. Further than where I could see you... "

"To take them away, yes."

"But why? Why didn't you just call the police?"

"I don't need _the police_."

"But–"

"I know how to work my land, Bella... and I know how to protect it. I don't need to call any damn police to help me. Or you."

"_Me_?"

"Yes, _you_."

"Who was outside, Edward?"

"Alice."

_What?_

"And now she's not. And will stay that way. And _a_."

"_A_?"

"Way."

"From?"

"You."

_Because..._

"Because I never will. And _will _protect what's mine."

"The land you claimed."

"Yes. And everything on it."

_Everything, Edward_?_ Even..._

"EVERYTHING."

_Me?_

"Yes, Bella. Crazy. Beautiful. _YOU_."

**...**

**...**

"Alice was here. She was outside of my house. At–"

"I know, Bella."

"How do you know?"

"Because Edward brought her back to ours."

"He did?"

"Yes. He did."

"And?"

"And she'll stay in it."

"Because you'll keep her there?"

"Yes, because I will, but... well, I don't think she'll try to leave it again."

"Why did she?"

"I don't know exactly. But–"

"Well, then why do you think she won't try to again?"

"Because I think she's scared."

"Of?"

"How loved you are."

"By–"

"Someone who doesn't love her."

_Someone who... but you do love... oh..._

_Edward?_

"I have to go, Bella."

"Wait... Jasper... "

"You have nothing to worry about. Everything's going to be okay, just like I told you it would."

"But–"

"Goodbye, sweetheart."

**...**

**...**

Someone who doesn't love her.

Someone who _doesn't _love her.

Someone who...

He had to mean Edward.

Because Jasper...

Whether he loves me or not...

_Does _love Alice.

And Edward...

_Does _love me.

I can't deny it.

Can't–even though I still get scared–not see it.

Or hear it.

Whether he's saying the words or saying nothing at all.

And can't not feel it.

In everything he does.

And maybe _did_.

Because Jasper said Alice is scared.

And I think by telling me she was...

He was telling me I shouldn't be.

Of...

"Come outside with me for a minute, I want to show you something."

"Okay. Let me just grab my–" I'm about to say jacket, but Edward is already holding his up and open for me.

So once I'm in it... tucked into its warmth and its softness and its intoxicating Edward scent–the power of which it has over me I don't hide from him–I smile and look down at my bare feet. "_Shoes_?"

"I'll share those, too," he tells me, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him. "Hop on."

I jump up on his back with a childlike giggle, and without a second of hesitation, and wrap tightly around him. I'm excited that he wants to show me something. Because, other than that day he let me see him leaving–okay, and that picture of his past he wanted me to see, that made me jealous before the thing he wanted me to see in it–Edward has never shown me anything bad.

Or anything I didn't love seeing.

Like now, when he carries me out my front door and down my porch steps and stops in front of the stake in the ground.

The one he put there.

Pounded in.

Showed me while he did.

"Do you see that?" he asks me, gripping my legs tighter and leaning over, putting me closer to it.

"Of course I do."

"And have you ever not? Since the day I put it there? Have you ever seen it gone?"

"No."

"Then do something for me, Bella... and for your crazy beautiful self... the next time–if there ever is a next time–you wake up or turn around and wonder where I am, where I've gone...where I may have snuck off to...

"_Before_ you let the tears come... and the fear...

"Come out here. And look. Because unless you don't see _this_... I'm still here, whether you can see me or not."

"Okay," I tell him. In a whisper. And wrap around him tighter. Bury my tearless face in the side of his neck. And close my eyes.

Because I've already seen everything I need to.

Because, even though the tears left them hours ago, he didn't stop working to keep them that way.

Left.

Gone.

And _a_.

Way.

And me this.

Not afraid to close them.

**...**

**...**

Aly fell asleep on the couch. With her head rested against me. And Figaro at her feet. And _on_. Keeping them warm.

And our jar of good things in front of us. Keeping all of us.

And further in front of us, the movie none of us is watching anymore, not keeping our attention. Because on this day, reality is better than make believe.

Edward has been looking at me for all of it. And all night.

At my face...

That stayed bare after the tears left it. Because he likes it that way.

He, who's been motionless beside me.

Except for his fingers...

That have held mine.

Traced them.

Studied and learned.

While they laid fearless and trusting so he could.

Even though I couldn't help but wonder what he'd feel...

What he did...

Can hands tell stories?

Can fingers tell secrets?

Can skin make confessions?

I know that his have...

To me and for me and...

But do mine?

To him?

Do they tell him the things they've done?

The things I have?

And does he already know, whether they do or they don't? Can or can't? Did or didn't?

Would he still be here if he did? Know...

Would that stake still be pounded firmly in the ground?

_My _ground?

Would his claim on it, and on me, still be so deep?

I know that he loves me...

But does he love me_ that much_?

His fingers squeeze mine as if he hears my questions. The last one, at least...

And then they let go.

And he shifts himself away from me.

Out from under.

And gets up.

Still looking at me.

And then down and away from.

Gives Figaro a gentle scratch.

Which makes him move just a little.

Just enough.

To free Aly's feet.

Which lift into the space above me because he lifts her.

Gently.

Sweetly.

So much so that she doesn't wake.

Because she trusts those hands that I do.

Those fingers that grip.

Those arms that work.

To make us feel safe.

Protected and secure.

And never, ever alone.

And when they walk away with her, I follow.

And then rush ahead to lead them.

Pull back the covers on her bed so that they can lay her beneath them, before I pull them back up.

To warm her.

Like Figaro wants to do, too.

Because he just ran in and up to.

The place he sleeps every night now.

When he isn't sneaking around the house.

A little less quietly than Edward and I now sneak out of Aly's room.

And I start down the hall...

Before I'm stopped.

By long, strong, beautiful fingers. And a whisper. "Where are you sneaking off to?"

"I was going to go out and have a smoke," I tell him. Because, since Aly came, we don't do that in the house anymore.

"Can it wait?" he asks, and pulls me toward the open door of my bedroom. Looking at me. Again. In a way that...

"Of course it can," I tell him, and let myself be pulled. "Because I may be crazy beautiful, but I'm not certifiably nuts."

_Well..._

"Yes you are," he disagrees. And I get scared for a second...

But it's only that, because he still has that look.

The one that tells me he wants something.

Before he does. "I want a confession from you."

"What?" I can barely ask. Because the fear returns. Grips. Chokes...

"I want to know what your hands... your fingers... _you_... are capable of."

_No, Edward... _

_Please no... _"I don't... I... "

"Yes you do, Bella."

I stand frozen in front of him.

Frozen in every way I could be.

Or feel.

But then he closes my door.

And tightens his grip on my icy hand still in his. Squeezes. Again.

And on my frostbitten heart...

Because he pulls me to the edge of my bed. And stops. His forward motion. Ours.

And falls back with only his own.

My hand falling free when he does.

And gets far enough...

To free the rest of me.

"Yes. You. Do." He repeats the words slowly. One at a time. So I can't misunderstand their meaning. Can't wonder about it. And don't.

And then confirms that my tears and fears are warranted this time. Quickly... "And so do I... "

Tears and fears that put me on the floor at his feet. Literally. And at his mercy... "So confess... " he says, sitting back up and looking down at me, "Not what they _were_... what _you _were... capable of... but what they are now. If I let you."

"I-i-i-if?" I ask him through sobs. Daring to look up at him. _Really _look...

At the man...

And the _Agent_...

Who's here with me now, too.

Who found what he came here for...

"Do we need to go back outside, Bella?" he asks me, wiping the tears from my face. "Do you need to see it to understand? See more than me right in front of you? In your personal space? Asking you to violate mine? Trespass all fucking over it? Because you took it from me already? And my will to take it back? Or _anything _away from you? But what you want me to have? Take? And keep? And drown myself in with blissful fucking ignorance... like I've been doing?"

_Like he's been..._

"Yes, Bella. _Like I've been_."

"You kn-kn-know... _kn-knew_... "

"Of course I do. And did...though I admit not quite as quickly as I should have...

"Your crazy beautiful was crazy distracting...

"But _yes_. Because I _am _good at my job. And because you're not good at hiding things. Not good at all."

"I w-was... until you c-came... I m-mean–"

"I know what you mean, Bella. And I know that you didn't want to. Be buried by those secrets... that you wish you'd never had to keep...

"But you need to know that I decided a long time ago to help you keep them. Long before I knew I had an accomplice... and then _two_...

"And long before I knew someone was hell bent on destroying you."

And something he wasn't looking for.

He found them _both_.

But only still wants one.

Me.

Who asks him to confess it to me... just to be sure. "S-someone that _isn't _y-you?"

"Bella... wouldn't I have done it already? If it was me?"

"I don't kn-know."

"Yes you do. You're just afraid to believe in anyone. Well...

"Besides your _friend_."

"He's been my friend for a very long time."

"I know that. And that when he told you he wouldn't let anything bad happen, you wanted to believe him."

"Of course I did."

"But that you didn't."

"Not because he didn't mean it... "

"No, not because of that."

"And not because he wouldn't try... to make it true... "

"No... not because of that, either. You didn't believe him because of _me_."

"Yes, Edward, but not because–" My words fall away as his mercy rises up.

And as I do...

Because he reaches down and pulls me up from the floor.

Makes me stand before him.

Him, my judge, jury, and executioner.

"I _love _you, Bella," he tells me, his hands fierce and strong as he holds mine. And me. With his words. "Do you understand that? I love you _enough_. And I love you better than he does. And I _can _protect you better."

_And I'll let you... God, I'll let you... but _"He–"

"Can hurt you."

_No..._ _it's her, not him..._ "He would never–"

"Listen to me!" he shouts but doesn't.

And it scares me... because he _does _know... "Okay... please don't get mad... I'm sorry... I'm–"

"Afraid of the wrong person."

"I'm not afraid of... ... " I can't say the words this time. Finish them. The words I've said before. The _one_...

"You don't want to lie to me anymore," he says. Declares. Because he knows everything, even though I've confessed nothing.

And "I never did," I whisper. "And I tried not to... "

"I know you did."

"But the truth in black and white... it... was... "

"Better left untold."

_Better left..._ "That doesn't sound like you." _You, who doesn't like secrets. Or..._

"Better left untold by _you_."

_Especially when they're mine._ "It still doesn't sound like you. Even less now, actually... "

"Well, that's because your me is a little more open minded."

"_My_ you?" I ask him. Out loud this time. Because I like the way it sounds. And wanted to feel that sound on my lips.

And because I want him to say it again.

Which he knows, of course... "Yes, Bella. YOUR me."

"That I get to keep?" I ask now. Because I can't not.

And because I've never gotten to keep anything.

Or anyone...

And I want to. I want to so badly...

"Do you remember what I told you the other day? That _I _was the only person, circumstance, or thing that could take me from you?"

"Yes," I whisper, though I want to scream it. "I remember."

"Good. Tell me what else I sad."

"That I shouldn't be afraid."

"Of?"

"Losing you."

"Or?"

"_You_."

"One more, Bella... "

"Never."

"And do you believe me? Now, even if you didn't then?"

I stare at him.

Study.

Search.

And the tears fill my eyes again.

Tears that _are _warranted.

Because the answer I found there... here... right in front of me...

The _only_ answer there is...

The only one _he_ has for me...

Is... "Yes."

_Whoosh..._

**...**

**...**

"So, what now? I mean... you said you wanted a confession... but then you said–"

"There are different kinds of confessions, Bella."

"And?"

"I wasn't asking you for the kind I could hear."

"You hear everything... "

"That's because I listen."

"So, you don't need to? Aren't asking me to? Weren't?"

"No. Not now. I may someday... if I think hearing it will help me protect you... but I can do that without it at the moment."

"Then what did you want? What did you want me to confess?"

"I told you. I wanted to know what you were capable of."

"You mean _feel_?" I ask now, remembering that look in his eyes...

What I knew it meant...

Before we got to the black and white.

"You wanted to feel it."

"Not past tense, Bella."

"You _want _to. Still."

"Yes."

"And I–"

"_You_... are in no position to tell me no."

Judge, jury, and _merciful _executioner...

And maybe a little cocky...

"You got me there. And wherever else you choose, it would seem. Forever... "

"Is that really what you think? What you feel? That you have no choice now? And never will?"

"I was kind of–"

"Kind of what?"

"Kind of kidding... "

"And kind of serious."

"No... I don't know... I... "

"You're not stuck, Bella. With me. Just because I know about when you were...

"That's not what your life is now. And not how I want you to live it. Or give it to me."

"Edward... "

"Do you know that or don't you?"

"I–"

"I WON'T hold it over you."

"Okay, I–"

"Use it as some power... to control you... "

"You don't need to... you–"

"Don't want you that way. Living in fear of me. Fear that if you don't do everything I want... everything I say... that I'll hurt you with your own pain."

"I don't think that, Edward. But–"

"But you do, too."

"No... I just... "

"It's okay, Bella. You don't have to try to explain it. And someday you'll know that. That you'll never have to. Because you won't feel it anymore. The threat of it. Or of me, who isn't, and will never be one to you...

"But would _still_ like that confession I asked you for. Not because you think you have to give it to me... but because you love me enough... and want me enough... to give it to me on your own."

"So, you really do just want to know what I'm capable of."

"I do. And I think it's only fair that you show me... you know... since I've shown you what I am. Many times."

"And it's only my hands that you want to show you?" I ask him. Knowing it's not like I know my own name...

And he laughs...

A deep, sexy chuckle of a laugh...

That flows through his mouth with it... "Oh, Bella... you _are_ certifiably nuts... "

And that makes me smile in spite of its black and white truth.

And push him back on my bed.

Hard.

With my hands.

And... "You have _no _idea... "

**...**

**...**

_**Whoosh...**_

**...**

**...**

There's a U-Haul trailer in the driveway.

Mine this time.

And a bigger one than there was the last.

And Aly's new suitcase is in the back of Edward's Tahoe. The red one with white polka dots. Suitcase, not Tahoe...

And she's in the back seat. With Figaro. And Cleo. And the jar of good.

All ready to go somewhere...

Where there's no bad.

And no yellow.

And not so much black and white.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"I'm not doing it to hurt you, Bella."

"I know."

"Look at me when you say that."

"I know," I tell him again, my eyes locked on his this time.

"You _do _understand?"

"Yes. I understand."

"It's the only way I can protect you. For now."

"Okay."

"Okay because you believe me or okay because you're afraid to disagree with me? Or fight me?"

"Okay because you love me. _Enough_."

"You've come a long way, Bella."

"I didn't do it alone."

"You'll never do anything alone again."

"Because you don't trust me to or because–"

"Because you love _me _enough."

"I do, Edward."

"I know. Now go say goodbye."

"You're not coming?"

"No."

"But you said–"

"You'll never do anything alone again _after_ _this_."

"Thank you."

"Hurry up before I change my mind."

"Yes, _Agent _Cullen."

"Very funny, Ca–_Miss Swan_."

"You're so going to have to climb another tree later."

"I'm going to _be _that tree later, Bella."

"Is that supposed to scare me, Edward?" I ask with a smirk, and back away from him.

Towards an open door very different from the closed one he leans against.

To wait for me.

"Never."

**...**

**...**

"Take care of–"

"I will."

"I'm sorry... "

"Me too."

"I really am."

"It's my fault, not yours."

"That's so–"

"The truth. The painful... ugly... truth."

"If I could go back... "

"Don't ever say that."

"But–"

"You wouldn't have what you have now. And I'd NEVER take that away from you."

"And you?"

"I'm going to hold on to what I had."

Those words hurt.

Hearing them...

Knowing their truth...

And they make me want to...

But I close my eyes and take a deep breath and pull away instead.

Because I _can't _go back.

And _can _go forward.

_Move_...

Finally...

With my eyes wide open.

Because someone loved me enough.

To stay.

When they were and they weren't.

And then take me with them when they went.

In the light of day.

Under a clear sky.

With everything staked and everything at...

And everything claimed.

But this ground beneath my moving feet.

That isn't anymore...

That's empty now.

Because Edward holds it in his hands...

"Ready?"

"YES."

_Goodbye._

**...**

**xx**

**...**

**And goodbye from me. Because that's it. How it ends. For now...**

**Which I'll now explain. Sort of.**

**This is the ending I'm giving you. The goodbye... until I decide to give you one last hello. Which _will_ come, when I decide the time is right. Not before.**

**So, this, for now, and maybe for a little while or maybe for a long, is complete.**

**And before you share your thoughts about that... or this... I'm going to share a few more of mine: I know what some of you wanted for her. What kind of 'ending'... What you thought she _deserved_... but she's MINE. And I–with Edward's help and love–gave her what I thought she did. So, be mad, be pissed, or be disgusted... but know that I'll be just fine.**

**Thanks for reading. Goodbye.**

.


	28. Chapter 28: Goodbye

**IMPORTANT A/N: Hello again. **_**Hello again**_**... yeah, that's what this was supposed to be. A hello again, and a **_**last**_**. But here's the thing, and why it took me so long to say it… I don't want to say it for a last time. And that decision, though NOT EVER planned, has been making me crazy for months. I've been back and forth a thousand times over what to do, my head and my heart at odds with each other, my head telling my heart to stick with the plan and let go… and my heart screaming NO after NO after NO…**

**So, here's what I've decided. I can't let go. I don't want to. I started this story as a healing process for myself, a 'I'll give myself the closure that my abandoner didn't let me have' process. And I did that. **_**Mostly**_**. I'm still human, of course, so…**

**But that spineless son of a bitch doesn't get any more airtime from me, (and no, I didn't kill him, only Bella got to live out that fantasy)whether I'm healed or not. And this Bella and Edward… I think they deserve some more. I think they deserve a lot. They gave me something and I want to give something back to them. Something of their own. **

**So, what this will be is a final goodbye. On **_**this **_**chapter of their lives. And that last hello I promised? Will be a first instead. On others. Because it's what my heart, and most importantly **_**their **_**hearts, want me to do.**

**And as for what I do down below... it is what it is. And how I want to end this.**

**…**

**…**

**Chapter Twenty Eight: Goodbye**

"Edward?"

No matter how much faith I have in the man who has done so much for me, and proves to me every day that he'd do more–do _anything_–the cool feel of the sheets next to me where warmth is supposed to be still sends my heart into a panic. And my feet with it.

I know he'd never leave me...

Never just let me find him gone…

On my very life I know it…

And trust in his promises…

But my greatest comfort comes from seeing them with my own eyes.

Seeing _him_. And his_ Everything will be okay _smile.

That I don't see now on his face. And didn't hear in his voice when I came in just in time for his goodbye. "Edward? What's wrong? Who were you talking to? Who was on the phone?"

His eyes don't answer any of my questions as they meet mine.

They simply warm. Because that's all he ever lets them give me, in one way or another. _Warmth_.

And his mouth–that's the kind of warm that dreams are made of–doesn't answer them, either.

After he closes the few feet of distance between us and brushes them softly against mine. "Hello again. And good morning."

"Good morning," I return, just like every. "And hello again to you, too." Because it's the way we start every new day.

But since I started this one seeing something not good on his face…

And hearing him say goodbye to someone with no warmth at all… "Now, tell me, please."

He looks as though he's about to deny my request, but then his voice comes out in a low murmur. "That was Jasper. Alice had the baby. There were complications."

"What kind of complications? Are they alright?"

"The baby was stillborn."

And just like that, I'm cold. "That's… " _awful… terrible… sad… heartbr–_

"Dangerous."

"For–"

"You."

_Maybe someday_… but... "I'm sure I'm the last thing on her mind right now, Edward. She must be grieving… "

"And when she stops?"

"I don't think I'd ever stop if it were me. If I lost a part of you that–"

"You'll never lose any part of me, Bella. You'll never lose _anything _ever again… not while I'm alive."

I believe him. He means it too much for me to not. Loves me too much.

Like someone else does. Someone who set aside his grief, and that of the other woman he loves, not to call me–who would have offered him condolences and comforting words–but to call the man who uprooted his entire life to protect me. To let him know not of his tragedy, but of how it could lead to another.

"Can I call him?" I ask him, my eyes flitting to his phone. The only one that rang this morning.

"Not right now, Bella."

"Okay," I say. Because I know it's the right decision. And, even though hard, the easiest one for all of us to live with.

And because, if it wasn't for Edward and his decisions…

Decisions made _for _me…

In every possible way...

I might not be living at all.

**.**

**The End.**

**Until the beginning, which I'm going to guess (based on prior abandonment) most of you won't join me for (by all means feel free to make me eat my words), but will be titled ****Hello Again ****for those of you who will. **

**Now, as for when this will happen, I'm not at this time going to make any promises or predictions. They automatically result in failure (MINE) every time I do, so…**

**See you when I see you I guess. And thanks to those of you who stuck around to at least see this. **


End file.
